PR 6003 
.R38 D4 
1913 
Copy 1 



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DEALING IN FUTURES 




DEALING IN 
FUTURES 

A PLAY IN THREE ACTS 

By 
HAROLD BRIGHOUSE 



Copyright, 191 3, by Samuel French, Limited 



New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

28-30 WEST 38TH STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



1^ 13 

THE PLAYS OF HAROLD BRIGHOUSE 

THE ODD MAN OUT 

A Comedy in Three Acts. is. net. 

THE OAK SETTLE 

A Comedy in One Act. 6d. 

THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON 
A Comedy in One Act. 6d. 

London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26, Southampton Street 
STRAND 



^ransfen^^iif from 



DEALING IN FUTURES 
A PLAY IN THREE ACTS 



CHARACTERS 



Jabez Thompson . 
RosiE Thompson . 
John Bunting, J. P. 
•Charlie Bunting . 
Walter Clavering 

LOMAX . 

Dowden 
James Pullen 
Robert Livesey C 
Job Alcott ) 

Mrs. Jones. 
Mrs. Wilcock. 
Buxler 



A Chemical Manufacturer. 

His Daughter. 

A Master Dyer. 

His Son. 

A Young Doctor. 

Thompson's Cashier. 

A Clerk. 

Workmen employed in 
Thompson's Works. 



In Thompson' s House. 



The Scene is laid in an outlying Lancashire village and the 
action of the play takes place within a space of t wenty-six 
haurs. 



DEALING IN FUTURES 



First produced at the Royalty Theatre, Glasgow, by th^ 
Glasgow Repertory Company on October 7, 1909, %ith th- 
following cast : — r- . — 



Jabez Thompson 
RosiE Thompson 
Butler . 
Walter Clavering 
John. Bunting 
Charlie Bunting 

LOMAX . 

Mrs. Wilcock 
Dowden 
James Pullen 
Robert Jones 
Joseph Livesey 
Job Alcott . 
Mrs. Jones , 



Mr. M.I R. Morand. 
Miss Mary Jevrold. 
Mr. H. Walker. 
Mr. Hubert Harden. 
Mr. R. B. Drysdale. 
Mr. Milton Rosmer. 
Mr. Ashton Tonge. 
Mrs. Sephton. 
Mr. Perceval Clark. 
Mr. Campbell Gullan. 
Mr. W. Edwyn Holloway. 
Mr. Laurence Hanray. 
Mr. George Wyley. 
Miss Eva Chaplin. 



The Characters make their appearance in the order named. 



The play Produced by Mr. Frank Vernon. 



Subsequently produced by Miss Horniman at Manchester 
and by the Liverpool Repertory Theatre. 



The Fee for each and every representation of this 
play by Amateurs is Three Guineas, payable in 
advance to Messrs. Samuel French, Limited, 26, 
Southampton vStreet, Strand, London, or their 
authorized representatives, who will issue a written 
permission for the performance to take place. No 
representation may be given unless this written 
authority 'has first been obtained. 

All the costumes, wigs and properties used in the 
performance of plays contained in French's Acting 
Edition may be hired or purchased reasonably by 
Messrs. Chas. H. Fox, Ltd., 27, Wellington Street,. 
Strand, London. 




DEALING IN FUTURES 

The aining-room of Jabez Thompson's ; tke room 
is luxuriously furnished and combines comfort with 
ostentation ; the door -is left, and at the back a large 
doorway curtained off leads to the billiard-room. 
(A plan of this and the other scenes in the play 
will be found at the end of the book.) The table is 
littered with the debris of dinner, and at it sit Jabe z 
Thompson (l.), and Rosie his daughter (l.), facing 
each other. Jabez is elderly, corpulent, bearded, o f 
florid face and general prosperous appearance ; 
he wears a frock coat, light grey trousers, and has a 
heavy gold watch chain. He speaks with all the 
asserliveness of life-long success. 

Rosie is dark and highly coloured, her face strong 
rather than beautiful. She dresses with taste, 
avoiding her father's scarcely veiled vulgarity, and 
wears a high dress of some amber material. She 
inherits k-r faihers strength of ii)ill, and though 
outwardly cultured, has not been able to subdue 
entirely a naturally violent temper. Her voice is 
a little shrill and shrewish, and Jabez is obviously 
rather afraid of her. 

Mallinson, the butler, enters with coffee, which he 
places on the table by Rosie. Rosie pours coffee. 
Butler puts cup by Jabez. 

Butler. Mr. Lomax, from the works, has arrived, 
sir. 



10 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Jabez, Very well, put kim in the librar}/. I'll 
be there in a moment to sign the letters. 

Butler. Yes, sir. 

Jabez. Oh, give him this and tell him to -look 
through it. {Gives folded paper from Itis pocket.) 

Butler. Yes, sir. (Takes paper and exit.) 

Jabez (sips coffee, lights cigar, and turns chair to 
face audience). By the way, Rosie, I asked Charlie 
to come round after dinner and to bring his father. 

Rosie (interested). Oh! Why? 

Jabez. I'm not satisfied with him. I v/ant to 
have a chat with the pair of them to see if we can't 
get things on a better basis. 

Rosie. What's the matter with Charlie ? 

Jabez. Oh, you wouldn't understand. It's a 
business question. 

Rosie. I see. You'd rather I wasn't here ? , 

Jabez. Yes. If you don't mind. We can.'t do 
better than stick to the rule even where Charlie's 
concerned, eh ? 

Rosie. Oh, I shan't intrude on a business talk. 

Jabez. . Thanks, my dear, thanks. (Encouraged 
to go on.) Do you know, Rosie, I'm not a bit happy 
over this engagement of yours to Charlie. 

Rosie (curtly). Why ? 

Jabez (apologetically). He's a queer fellow. I 
can't size hmi up. I can't think why on earth you 
got engaged to him. 

Rosie. That's my business, isn't it ? 

Jabez Yes, my dear. I suppose it is. But 
that doesn't stop me from wishing you'd taken a 
fancy to some one else. 

Rosie. I've told you before I won't have you 
interfering in my affairs, father. I'm quite capable 
of managing them myself. 

Jabez (meekly). I try not to, my dear. I do 
try not to. Only this matter — it's not as if you 
had a mother, is it now ? 

Rosie. Oh, you can trust me to judge whether 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 11 

a man comes because he wants me or v/hether he's 
only a vulgar fortune-hunter. Whatever Charhe is 
or isn't, he's not after my money. 

Jabez. No, Charlie never is after money. You're 
easily the better business man. He's always got 
his head full of ideas about pampering the men 
instead of thinking of the welfare of the firm. 

RosiE (snappishly). You needn't think you can 
get me to break it off, so don't try. You can say 
what you hke to him so long as you remxember I'm 
going to marry him. 

Jabez. Well, w^ell, I must see what I can make 
of Charhe. (Drinks.) I'll tell you one thing, my 
dear, you're a good deal more eager about it than 
he is. 

RosiE. Possibly. You needn't v/orry about that. 

Jabez. But I do worry, my dear. How can I 
help it ? (Rosie moves impatiently.) Nov/ don't 
fly in a temper. He is taking his time in coming 
up to scratch. Let me ask you one thing ? 

Rosie. Yes ? 

Jabez. When are you going to be married ? 

Rosie. I really don't know. 

Jabez. No, and it's time you did. You've been 
engaged long enough. 

Rosie. Is that v/hat you are going to talk to 
him about to-night ? 

Jabez. Amongst other things. I'm tired of his 
playing about with the thing. If your mind's made 
up, what's there to wait for ? People are beginning 
to talk. 

Rosie. Let them. 

Jabez. That's all very well, but people in our 
position must consider public opinion. You don't 
object to my settling it, do you ? 

Rosie. Oh, do what you want. But don't you 
dare to bully Charlie. I won't have him bullied. 

Jabez. Oh, I shan't hurt him. A good talking to 
'ull do him no harm. 



12 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

{Enter Butler, l.) 

Butler (at door l.). Dr. Clavering has called, 
sir. Wishes to speak to you. 

Jabez (surprised). Clavering? Weil, show him 
up. 

Butler. Yes, sir. 

(Exit Butler.) 

Jabez. What's the matter with Clavering ? He 
doesn't often condescend to leave his precious research 
work in the evenings. (RosiE shriigs her shotdders 
contemptuously. Enter Butler.) 

Butler (announchig) . Dr. Clavering. 

(Enter Clavering. Exit Butler. Clavering is a 
young doctor imth keen clever face, clean-shaven, 
with a general air of self-reliance. He is a practical 
man of affairs whose business happens to he doctoring.) 

Clavering. Good evening, Mr. Thompson. 

Jabez (rising). Good evening, Dr. Clavering, 
(They shake hands, and Jabez, turning his chair sits 
sideways to the table.) 

Clav. Good evening, Miss Thompson. (Rosie 
murmurs and bows coldly.) 

Jabez. Well, what can I do for you, doctor ? 
Sit down. 

Clav. (sits on sofa l.). The fact is — it's rather a 
liberty — I hope you won't mind. 

Jabez. Out with it, man ! What's to do ? 

Clav. I've come to see you about one of your 
men — a fellow named Alcott. 

Jabez (reflectively). Alcott ? Alcott ? 

Clav. You don't just call him to mind ? 

Jabez. No, but I wiU. 

Clav. That won't matter. It's just 

Jabez (rising). But it does matter; if I talk 
about a man I hke to know who I'm talking about. 
I shan't be a moment. My record book's handy. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 13 

Clav. Record book ? You keep it here ? 
Jabez. Yes ; I've every man's record in that 
book. I don't risk leaving a thing like that at the 
works, safe or no safe. (Crossing and reaching door 
L.) I'll go and look the name up. Lomax is here 
too with the letters for signing, but that won't detain 
me long. (Exit taking hunch of keys from^ his trousers'' 
pocket.) 

Clav. Miss Thompson, I'm glad your father's 

gone. It gives me an opportunity 

RosiE (eagerly). Yes ? Any illness amongst the 
men, doctor ? 

Clav. Only this Alcott. I'll discuss that with Mr. 
Thompson. Don't let's waste time now. (Rises and 
moves to hack of tahle.) I hoped so much to see you 
alone. I never get a chance. 

RosiE. There's always the telephone. 
Clav. I can't see your face through the tele- 
phone, and it's always about others. What a great 
heart 3/ou have, ]\Iiss Thompson ! 

(Sits ahove tahle.) 
RosiE. I ? Oh, one does what one can. 
Clav. For others. 
RosiE. Others ? 

Clav. Yes; for me it's the telephone — always 
the telephone. So and so's ill— a name passes, 
an address, and we ring off. I never get the chance 
of seeing you alone. 

RosiE. Doctors are such busy people aren't 
they ? 

Clav. Xot too busy to be human, to desire to 
see in the flesh the woman one's always communi- 
cating with through Vcold-blooded telephone. We're 
allies, you know. Miss Thompson, fellow-conspirators, 
aren't we ? That makes a bond between us. 

RosiE (conventionally). It's very good of you to 
let me know so promptly when any of the men fall 
ill and to keep it a secret between us — even from 
Charlie. 



14 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Clav. {contemptuously). Oh, Charlie f 
RosiE {quickly). He doesn't know, of course ? 
Clav. No, he knows nothing. 
RosiE. I was just afraid. You're such close 
friends, and this book you've been writing must 
have brought you closer together. I thought you 
might have let it slip out. 

Clav. Oh, no. I kept the bond. 

RosiE. I can never thank you sufficiently. 

Clav. You could if you would. 

RosiE. How ? Tell me. 

Clav. As you said, I'm a bu^y man, but I'm 
not too busy to use my eyes. A man can't join 
hands with a good woman in the great work of allevi- 
ating suffering without conceiving an admiration 
for her, without longing 

RosiE {coldly). Need we waste time in . compli- 
ments, Dr. Clavering ? My father may be back at 
any moment, and if you've] anything to say to m.e/ 
w^on't you come to the point ? 

Clav. I want to • knovv- if I may hope for a 
reward. 

RosiE. Surely a doctor doesn't ask rev/ard for 
helping to do good. 

Clav. Virtue its ovrn reward ? Come, Miss 
Thompson, isn't that one of the maxims all of us 
apply to others rather than to ourselves ? 

RosiE {rising). If you want to be paid for your 
services to me, doctor, perhaps you will send in an 
account. 

Clav. You're misunderstanding wilfully. {Ris- 
ing.) Can't v/e be frank with one another, we co- 
workers in the same field ? Must you wear before 
me the mask you put on to suit your father ? 

RosiE. I wear a mask to suit my father ? I 
think you're labouring under some mistake. 

Clav. Then the reward I aim at is Oh, 

don't you see ? 

RosiE. I hope I don't. {Crossing to door R. at 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 15 

back.) I think we'd both better forget this conver- 
sation, Dr. Clavering. 

Clav. [following). You shan't put me off. I • 

(Enter Jabez with a small red hound book, keeping a 
place in it with his finger. Clavering leaves Rosie 
promptly and stands above table.) 

Jabez. I'm primed now, doctor. (He sits and 
puts the book open on the table.) There's not much 
worth knowing about my men that this friend can't 
tell me (tapping the book). But it doesn't tell me 
much good about Mr. Alcott (emphasizing the " Mr. " 
sarcastically) . 

Clav. Sorry to hear that. Poor chap, he's in 
a bad way. (Rosie looks interested.) 

Jabez. Oh, you've been to see him professionally, 

Xlav. I don't go to see Brixham's Buildings. 
Ihey come to me. Surgery hours are just over. 

Rosie [sojtly, sitting at writing-table r., taking a 
piece of note paper and writing) . Brixham's Buildings. 

Jabez. Well ? ^ 

_ Clav. (sitting above table with elbows on it and finger- 
tips at chin). The work doesn't suit him. What 
that fellow needs is a good dose of fresh air. When 
1 tola him so, he said he'd lose his job if he asked 
otl ^tor a month. I've come to see if something 
cant be arranged for him, Mr. Tompson. 

Jabez (coldly). In what way ? 

Clav. Couldn't you give him sick leave for a 
month or so ? 

Jabez. What's the matter with him ? 

Clav. (glancing at Rosie as if for a sign of approval). 
Oh, my cases here are all the same. I know them off 
by heart. Dyspepsia and faintness to begin with 
and_ paralysis to fohow. I could give that man no 
advice except to clear out of this. He told me he'd 
got to live. 

Jabez (whose signs of irritation have increased). 



16 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Rosie, do you mind leaving me to settle this with 
the doctor ? It's a works question, you know. 

RosiE [rising with the note doubled in her hand) 
Yes. 

Clav. (protestingly) . Oh, but 

RosiE. Don't get up, Dr. Clavering. (Clavering 
rises and holds back curtain at door r.c.) 

{Exit RosiE, R.c. Clavering returns to table.) 

Jabez. The fat's in the fire this time. 

Clav. I beg your pardon. 

Jabez. I thought you'd more sense than to come 
here with a tale of this sort. These things upset a 
woman. I do all I can to keep them from her, and 
here you spin this yarn before I've time to stop you. 
You should have come to me at the ofBce. 

Clav. [apologetically, sitting again above table). 
I rather hoped Miss Thompson might have put in 
a word for me. 

Jabez [brusquely). Nonsense. You know very 
well that I don't allow my daughter to interfere 
with business. I'd as soon start messing with her 
housekeeping. That's a woman's place if you like — 
the home. We'd to make a rule of it, years ago, Rosie 
and I. She got asking fool questions about things 
she didn't understand and worrying me silly till we 
both agreed it was best for her to steer clear of the 
works. We've each our place now. I've the works 
and she's the home. You've made a bad mistake, 
sir. ■ 

Clav. I'm sorry. 'I do hope you'll not let this 
prejudice Alcott's chances of a month off. 

Jabez. I shouldn't dream of doing such a thing. 
A month off for a labourer ! It's absurd. 

Clav. [seriously). I can't answer for the man's life 
if you don't, Mr. Thompson. 

Jabez. My dear sir, you're looking at the 
individual case. I can't do that. I've to see all 



DEALING IN FUTURES. I7 

my inen at once 3.nd I know what they are. Give 
these fellows an inch and they take an ell. I can't 
make an exception for Alcott. I'd have to do the 
same for every man who fell sick and for Heaven 
knows how many mahngerers as well ; once I began 
that sort of thing, I'd never know when I'd end. 

Clav. Then you won't 

Jabez {interrupting). It's not that I won't, I 
can't, and there's an end of it. 

{Enter Butler, l.) 

Butler. Mr. Bunting. 

{Enter John Bunting, John bears some outward 
signs of similarity to Jabez. Like Jabez, he is 
elderly and corpulent. But, though hardly less 
assertive in tone at first, there is an underlying 
furtiveness, and he is extremely deferential to Jabez 
even while assuming an equal camaraderie with him. 
He wears a frock coat and has evidently modelled 
himself on Jabez. Clavering rises and goes r.c.) 

Jabez {patronizingly). Oh, good evening. John. 
(Jabez does not rise.) 

John. Good evening. {Crossing R.) Good even- 
ing, Dr. Clavering. (Clavering bo'ws — the Butler 
remains.) 

Jabez. What's the matter, Mallinson ? 

Butler {very importantly). Dr. Clavering's house- 
keeper, sir, have telephoned from his surgery as he's 
wanted. 

Clav. {briskly). Oh, I'll come at once. Excuse 
me, won't you ? {Crossing to door l.) 

Butler {raising his hand. Clavering stops aston- 
ished). It's at the works you're wanted, sir. An 
accident, I beheve. 

Clav. The works! {To Jabez.) Shall you come ? 

Jabez. I ? Certainly not. You're the man they 
want, not I. vSit down, John. (Jabez moves John 

B 



18 DSALIXCI IN FITTITRES. 

to the chr.il'' RosiE had occupied at table R. John 
sits.) 

Clav. Oh, all right. I'll report later. 

Jabez. You needn't trouble. Bad news trave Is 
fast enough. Good night. 

Clav. (shortly). Good night. 

{Exit Clavering_, l., folloived by Butler.) 

Jabez. That young man's growing officious. A 
whisky, John. (Pours.) Have a cigar ? 

John. Thanks. Yours are too good to refuse. 
Jabez. Where's Charhe ? Isn't he with you? 
John. No. He's not been home to dinner. Still 
at the works I suppose. 

Jabez. Yes. (Pause.) I alv/ays did say a good 
cigar was the best part of a dinner. 

John. You're right there. When all's said and 
done, Jabez^ a good liver's got a lot to do with happi- 
ness. Thaik goodness, mine doesn't trouble me. 

Jabez. Nor mine. I've no patience with these 
modern fads— mustn't eat this and that and all that 
kind of rubbish. If I fancied a thing I had it, and 
damn the expense. Look at me to-day, sir. (Smack- 
ing his chest.) Sound, sir, sound as a bell. 

John (pliying up to him). We've hved, Jabez, 
there's no doubt about it. We've gone the pace 
in our time. 

Jabez (fiercely, as if contradicted). And why 
not ? You tell me that. Give me a good time, I 
say. That's my motto, and by Heaven I've hved 
up to it. 

John (admiringly). You alv/ays were a v/arm man. 
Jabez. Warm ? I believe you. Damme, sir, 
if I had my time over again I'd do the same. I wish 
I had, too. I'd show the young 'uns a thing or 
three, eh, John ? They think they're pretty wide 
awake, but I'll gamble we old cocks could give them 
a long start and win hands down. Eh, well, what's 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 19 

the good of w'ishe:. ^ (Poir/s himself sorn? whisky 

■soda.) ^ . ,, 

John. Yes, we've got to face it, old man. You 
and I have come to the time of life when a man 
makes his will and begins to think a bit about who's 
going to step into his shoes when he's done with 

them. 

Jabez. ■ That's the very thmg I want to talk to 
you about. Wnat I always say is if you've got a 
bit of business to do with a man. let him come and 
talk things over with you in your own house. Many's 
the deal^I've made that way in my time. Get a 
man feeling at home with himself, with some good 
wine inside him and a good cigar in his lips, and you 
can have your own way with him. Not that I mean 
that personally, John. (John waves deprecatingly.) 

Jabez. Only as a general thing. 

JoHX. Of course. To be sure. 

Jabez. Yes. We've got to think of the young 
'uns. Rosie, now. Rosie's a good girl— been well 
brought up. No expense spared— same as if she'd 
been a bov. 

John'. You've done well by her, if she did dis- 
appoint vou by being a girl instead of a boy. 

Jabez." Aye, aye. That's an old sore now. And 
Tf I haven't a boy, John, you have. 

John {shifting uneasily). Yes, ves, I know I have. 

Jabez. Well ? 

John. Well, what ? 

Jabez. Look here, John, it's no good beating 
about the bush. We know each other by this time, 
and you're not the man to take offence at a bit of 
straight talk. That lad of yours wants speaking to, 
and damme, you're the man to do it. 
John. What's the 'matter with him ? 

Jabez. Nothing except that he's a fool. (John 
leaps up.) 

John. I say 

Jabez (intcYrupting). Now sit down, John. (John 



20 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

sits.) Here's a lad I took a fancy to when he was 
a youngster. I take him to the works and give him 
every chance. It's understood he's to have Rosie 
and the business, too, when I've done with it. Here's 
Rosie sick for love of him. And vv^hat's he doing ? 
Shillyshallying round and can't be got to name the 
day. That's not all, either, but it'ull do to go on 
with. What do you make of it, John ? What's the 
matter with him ? 

John. The boy's sound enough at bottom. Give 
him time to come round. It's not the thing nowa- 
days to get married as young as it was in our day. 
And Charlie's in love with his work. 
Jabez. I know he is, the young fool. 
John. Come, steady on, Jabez. 
Jabez. Oh, well — Yes, all right, John. But what 
sort of work is it ? Laboratory experiments ! 

John. Yes, and jolly useful they are, too. You're 
bound to have a chemist. Give the devil his due, 
Jabez, Charlie's discoveries have been the making 
of the business. 

Jabez. They've had their uses. 
John. I should think they have. Why, man, 
you simply ran the place for a couple of years on 
that cheap fast red of his. 

Jabez. Hang it all, experimenting's all right, 
but a fellow needs a business head as well ; what's 
the good of his finding new processes if he can't 
exploit 'em ? 

John. You exploit them. 

Jabez. I know I do. But I shan't be here for 
ever. Charlie 'ud be a catspaw in the hands of a 
smart business man. He's the sort of fool a clever 
fellow hkes to get hold of. I want him to help me 
in the management, in selhng the stuff and handhng 
the men, and I can't get him to stir a finger. What's 
the use of a man hke that at the head of a business 
concern ? 
John (gruffly). Then don't put him there. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 21 

Jabez [irritated — rising and pacing about). By 
God, I will, though. (Turning abruptly to JoHxN.) 
Why ? (l.c.) ril tell you why. John. Nothing 
queers a man for business like the knowledge that 
thing's aren't righ' at home, and that girl of mine's 
fretting (u.l.). I tell you I'm not very particular 
who she marries so long as I know she's married 
happily, but she's set her heart on Charhe, so Charlie 
it must be, and I'm damned if I'll have him putting 
her off any longer. It's upsetting Rosie and it's 
upsetting me. That's why I want Charlie to be a 
man instead of a skalking chemist. {P.ms3^dwp- 
ping down l.) The fellow wants some backbone, 
John. Managing a works isn't ail plain sailing 
to-day, same as it v,as when the men knew their 
places. It wants a strong hand and a quick brain 
to see how to give 'em the little things that don't 
matter and to keep from them the big things 
that do. I'm getting old, John. I'd like a rest. 
You'll speak to liim, now, won't you ? 

\Sits L. of table.) 

John. Very well. I'll do my best. 

Jabez. Just make him see which side his bread's 
buttered. He's too clever by half. I can't make 
him out sometimes. He's got notions in his head 
about coddling the men and giving them better 
wages before they ask for them, as if it wasn't enough 
to have the Factory Acts and the Government Inspec- 
tors poking their noses round. Dangerous trades ! 
It was good enough for their fathers, and, by God ! 
it 'ull have to be good enough for them. I don't 
run my place for charity, and the sooner they get 
that mto their thick heads the better. {Irritably.) 
Where the devil is Charlie ? 

John. He said he'd come on here from the works 
if" he wasn't home to dinner. 

Jabez. Then why isn't he here ? 

John. Experimenting, again, I suppose. 

Jabez. Hang his experiments ! 



22 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

(Enter L. Charlie Bunting gvcatly excited. He has 
the face of a visionary and his high forehead con- 
trasts with a weak, receding chin ; he has convictions 
and ideals, but it is douhtful if he has the courage 
to live up to them.) 

Jabez. Oh, there ^'oii are, sir. About time, too. 
(Seeing Charlie's agitation.) Hello, what's wrong 
with yon ? 

Charlie. There's been an accident. {He gasps.) 

Jabez. Fatal ? 

Charlie. Yes. 

Jabez. Curse their carelessness. (Irritably.) 
Another inquest, of course, and headlines in the papers 
and questions from the Coroner. What is it this 
time ? Another drunken fool walked into the 
vitriol tanks ? 

Charlie (bitterly). Oh, no, this needn't trouble 
you. We don't often kill men suddenly. We 
poison them by gradual degrees. 

Jabez. What was it ? Am I ever going to 
know ? 

Charlie. The lift gave way. 

Jabez. The lift ? Oh, we're net responsible for 
that. It was inspected only last week. We hold 
a certificate of efficiency. 

Charlie. Oh, yes, it was examined right enough. 
Only the men tell me the inspector was drunk when 
he came. 

Jabez. They can't prove it. 

Charlie. Not they. You needn't v/orry. They'll 
not have the pluck to repeat it in court. (Up stage l.) 

Jabez. Certainly not ; a coroner's court isn't the 
place for irresponsible gossip of that kind. 

Charlie (down to sofa). No, the verdict will_ be 
accidental death right enough, with polite expressions 
of sympathy and a rider exonerating us from blame. 

Jabez (settling himself comfortably in his chair). 
Of course. Very proper, very proper. And we've 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 23 

th- Insir;anco CoTnu-.^y to fall bick on. I t-^1 you 
what, Charlie, they'll be raising ou-- p:emiuni if things 
^o on lik- this. "^ Two fata^. accidents in a month. 
I suppose th-i^T-e's a widow. There usually i^. 

Charlie. Yes. There's a widow and six children. 
(Goinf^ up L.) 

Jabez [turning to Jvohx). I don't know how it is, 
but it always is the married men who t^et killed. 
(To Charlie.) Well, I don't see what there is to 
make all this fuss about, Charlie. Accidents will 
hapuen. Upon my word, you quite frightened me 
for a moment. Ring the bell and have some dinner. 

Charlie {shuddering). I can't eat. I've just 
seen a man killed. Oh, it's horrible, horrible. {Sits 
on sofa L., burying head in hands.) 

Jabez. Nonsense, man. Pull yourself together. 
It's deplorable, of course— a most distressing occur- 
rence — but no reason for going without your dinner. 
What did I tell you, John ? Charlie's too soft for 
this world. 

Charlie (raising head). Don't you understand ? 
I saw the hft crash down. I was there when they 
got out the poor, broken, mangled body from amongst 
the blood-stained splinters. I sav/ 

Jabez. Excuse me, Charlie, but I've just had 
my dinner. Kindly have the delicacy not to enter 
into details. 

Charlie. Very well. I— oh, I think I'll go home. 
Good night. (Going.) 

John. Wait a moment, Charlie. (Charlie's 
hand is on the door-knob l.) We were just speaking 
about you. Hadn't we better thrash this matter 
out now, Jabez ? 

Jabez (grimly). I'm agreeable if Charlie is. 

John. Sit down, Charhe. (Charlie sits imarily 
on sofa.) 

Charlie. What is it ? 

John. Well, it's hke this. Jabez tells me he 
considers you're wasting your time. He doesn t 



24 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

call you lazy— not exactly lazy, do you, Jabez ? He 
wants you to widen your interests and broaden 
your ideas. That's it, isn't it ? 

Charlie {to Jabez). Oh, that's it, is it ? 
Jabez. It's one way of putting it. I don't 
know whether it's laziness or what it is, but you 
certainly fight shy of a bit of honest work. 

Charlie (leaping up fierily). Work? What else 
do I do from early morning when I enter the laboratory 
till late at night when I leave it? 

Jabez (smoofMy). Quietly, quietly. Yes, that's 
all very well, but that's not what I call work. 
Charlie. What do you call it then ? 
Jabez. It's not work to you. You hke doing it. 
Charlie. I loathe it from the bottom of my 
soul. 
Jabez. Then why do it ? 

Charlie. Well, as you put me into the works 
you ought to be able to answer that. better than I 
can. I'd no taste for the work at all, but the 
laboratory was the department I detested least. I 
suppose I naturally drifted to it. 

Jabez. Look here, my lad, I asked you a plain 
question, and I'll thank you for a plain answer. 
Charlie. I thought I'd given you one. 
Jabez. What made you choose the laboratory ? 
Charlie. I thought I saw some shadowy hope 
of doing good there. 

Jabez. Well, you've done a bit. I'll give you 
credit for that. 

Charlie. Not that kind of good. That was 
accidental. I only hit by chance on the processes 
which happened to prove profitable to you. 

Jabez. By chance ? Then what the devil were 
you driving at with my time and my chemicals ? 

Charlie. I hoped to find some means of accom- 
plishing what we do here by less dangerous methods 
— to let a httle health into the work. I saw strong 
workmen brought to these works in the prime of hfe 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 25 

and health, and in a few years turned away, broken, 
worn-out invahds. I worked to find a way 

out. 

Jabez (contemptuously). You fool. 

Charlie. I quite agree. (Rises and paces up 
and down.) Yes, fool, fool, fool. Fool as much as 
if I'd sought the philosopher's stone or the ehxir of 
life. I did seek the ehxir of hfe, and I will go on 
seeking it— hfe for those helpless hundreds driven 
by the need to live to certain death. Let me go 
on. Let me hope ; but do not ask me to assist in 
getting orders for our deadly production. Every 
contract you sign your name to is the death-warrant 
of a workman: {Sitting on arm of sofa.) 

John {imploringly). Charhe ! 

Jabez. Have a little common sense, man. You're 
seeing things to-night. This accident's got on your 
nerves. {Rises.) After aU, I think you had better 
go home. We'll talk this over another time. I 
haven't lost my temper yet and I don't want to. 
{Putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.) Come 
now, admit that you're not quite yourself. 

Charlie. You treat me like a child. Havmg 
been naughty, I'm sent to bed to sleep off my tan- 
trums. 

Jabez. And I'm the ogre in the fairy story who 
makes bread of people's bones, eh, Charlie? Yes. 
you'll laugh at this to-morrow. Really, you've been 
making an awful ass of yourself. You'll see things 
in a better perspective in the morning. 

Charlie {bitterly). With myself as a respectable 
member of the governing classes, I suppose, with 
nice clean hands and a dirty conscience. 

Jabez. For Heaven's sake, Charhe, drop that 
silly twaddle. We've had enough of your platform 
manner for one night. You talk hke a Hyde Park 
orator, only they're paid to make fools of themselves 
and you're not. 

Charlie {pulling himself together). No. Lets 



26 DEALING IN FUTURES 

have this out. I didn't begin it, but now we've gone 
so far I must know where we stand. 

Jabez. You're not fit for it. But it's as you like. 
(Sits L. of table.) 
. Charlie. I do hke. Now, Mr. Thompson, it's 
understood that I meant what I said. You must 
let me continue my laboratory work. I still hope 
to find less dangerous methods. I may also drop 
across a few more novelties for you to exploit. But 
I definitely decline to have a hand in coercing my 
fellow creatures to do the work as it is done at present, 
or in procuring orders necessitating such work. 

Jabez. But it is necessary work, Charlie. You 
must see that. 

Charlie. No work involving risk of death and 
the certaintv of ill health is necessa.ry. 

Jabez. Ours is. If the supply of our productions 
was cut short huge industries would be automatically 
dislocated. How are people to run their bleaching 
works and dye works if they can't get dye stuffs ? 
Charlie. Never mind. That wouldn't matter. 
Jabez. Oh, the boy's mad. This is what comes 
of debating societies and political meetings for infants. 
Look here, Charhe, it's one thing to get on your 
^ legs and spout revolutionary rot to a roomful of 
fantastic fools as hare-brained as yourself, but it's a 
very different pair of steps to come here and ask me 
to take you seriously. If it wasn't for Rosie, I'd 
take you at your word and send you packing. As 
it is, I'll try something else first. John, this is your 
affair now. You've got to bring this fellow to his 
senses. (Rises and goes round table to John, r.) 
John. I'll try, Jabez, I'll try. 
Jabez (threateningly). You'll succeed. (Going up 
to door r.c.) 
John (looking up at him). What do you mean ? 
Jabez. You know as well as I do. I'm sorry, 
old man, but I've got to put the screw on. You 
can't expect me to keep my patience for ever if he 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 27 

won't hear reason. You can't blame me. I'll go 
and join Rosie while you straighten things out a 
bit between you. 

{Exit through door centre. John sinks hack into his 
seat and buries his head in his hands on the table. 
Charlie goes' behind table to him and tries to raise 
him up.) 

Charlie (softly). Dad. 

John (slowly removing his hands from his face and 
raising his eyes to Charlie). You haven't called 
me that since you were a little boy. 

Charlie. Dear old dad. I don't want to know 
what it is. Let him think he's got hold of something. 
I don't care. . 

John. But you must know. I'm absolutely in 
his power. He can ruin me if he likes. 

Charlie. How ? 

John. It's my dye works, Charhe. Jabez finances 
it. No one knows it's not my own, but if he cut off 
supplies I'd have to close it down to-morrow, and 
call my creditors together. I make a hving out of 
it, buf the capital's all his. I couldn't meet a tenth 
of my liabihties without his aid. 

Charlie. Never mind, dad. (Sits above table.) 
We'll fight it together, shoulder to shoulder, you 
and I against the world. What does poverty matter 
if we can be independent ? 

John (terrified). No, no. You can't mean that. 
You can't mean to bring disgrace upon your father's 
grey hairs. Think of my position, Charlie — a public 
man in my own way ; not such a big pot as Jabez, 
but I have my feelings just the same. The Black- 
more Dye Works is a small enough concern compared 
with Jabez's Chemical Works, but it's meant the 
world to me. Every one thinks the business is "mine. 
What will people say when they learn that Vm 
practically penniless ? 



28 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Charlie. What does it matter what people say ? 

John {ignoring him). And Jabez is a man of "his 
word. He means it. He's never threatened to do 
this before. 

Charlie. And what makes" him do it now? 

John. Oh, you must do what he wants, Charhe. 

Charlie. But why does he want it ? Why won't 
he see that I'm unfit for the position he offers me ? 
I can't and I won't fitl it to his orders. Oh, it's my 
own fault, I suppose. He's quite right. I'm soft — 
too soft for this horrible, inhuman world. I yielded 
at first because I hoped to do some good, and I've 
.gone on yielding ever since. It seemed so easy to 
acquiesce and to hope for the best. And this is 
where my cursed weakness has landed me. 

John. Yes. Jabez has us at his mercy. 

Charlie. I'm as far as ever from seeing whv he's 
doing it. 

John. Oh, that's plain enough. He's a good 
sort, is Jabez. 

Charlie (staggered). What ! 

John. Oh, yes, really a good sort, only he likes 
to play boss. That's why he kept mum about my 
business — so that he could do as he Hked with me. 
And then Rosie took a fancy to you ; so old Jabez 
steps in to play providence to a pair of lovers. He's 
meant well all al^ng. 

Charlie. He's a sentimental ass. Curse his 
good intentions. 

John. You may curse them, but you'll not alter 
them. Jabez will have his way. Right or wrong, 
he will have his way, he always does. You may call 
him obstinate, pig-headed, anything you like, but, 
mark my words, it's no use fighting against him. 

Charlie (contemphwusly). You're frightened of 
him. 

John (with conviction). Terribly. 

Charlie. Well, I'm not. 

John {coming to him). Charlie, you must give 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 2<> 

way. Remember me. Can't yoii see that all these 
years have been hell upon earth to me ? I've been 
his slave, his dog, and all the time he professed friend- 
ship for me, nav, he was my friend. He patted me 
with one hand,' but the dog-whip was in the other. 
You can't force him to speak now, Charlie. Oh, 
say vou can't. 

Charlie. But— oh, I don't understand. 11 you 
had imagination enough to see all this and to writhe 
under it, and strength enough to keep your hands 
off him, couldn't you see there was a way out ? 
Why couldn't 3^ou leave him, leave this place, and 
make a fresh start somewhere else without his cursed 

monev ? - -d ^ 

John. I might have done that at hrst. But — 
well— hke father like son, Charlie. 

Charlie. What's that supposed to mean ? 
John. You've acquiesced. You've gone on hoping 
for the best. So did I till the cords which held me 
were bound more closely, till I became a man of 
substance here, looked up to by my neighbours. 
They made me sidesman at the Church and then 
a magistrate. I loved these things, Charlie, the 
httle honours I had won. I clung to them. Your 
mother died, and as you grew up and drifted from 
me full of ideas I could not understand, I clung 
more closely to the little things life held for me. It's 
all I have, Charlie. Don't take that away trom 



me 



Charlie. Why shouldn't people know it? 
There's no disgrace in having your business hnanced 
by another man. 

John. Well, if you must know, there s another 

reason. 

Charlie {suddenly alarmed). It's a paying con- 
cern, isn't it ? 

John. Yes, but I can't prove it. 

Charlie. Why not ? 

John. I've no figures to show. Any one i 



30 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

approached would want to see accounts — audited 
accounts. 

Charlie. Well haven't you got them ? 

John. No. It was enough for Jabez to know 
that he got a good return on his money, I've never 
had auditors in the place. Jabez never asked it. 

Charlie. That doesn't justify your carrying on 
the thing in a slipshod manner. It only shows how 
absolutely content you were to remain in abject 
dependence on Thompson. Any tin-pot grocer keeps 
his books properly and gets them audited. 

John. Charlie, I'm your father. 

Charlie. Oh, it's all right. I'm going to stick 
by you. I'm going to be a pawn in Thompson's 
game. But I can't pretend that I can do it with a 
good grace. Your point of view's all wrong. You've 
been sailing under false colours all your life, and 
now I'm to cave in to Thompson so that you can go 
on hving a lie to the end, and a silly lie at that. 

John {with dignity). Charlie, remember who you 
are speaking to. 

Charlie. I do. I haven't the slightest hope of 
making you see it as I do, but I can't go licking 
Thompson's boots on your behalf without letting 
you know I'm not doing it for fun. And there's 
Rosie. I suppose Rosie's included in the bargain. 

John. You engaged yourself to her, didn't you ? 

Charlie. No. She did all the engaging there 
was about it. But it amounts to the same thing. 
I shall have to go through with it. 

John. Well, for the life of me I can't see what you 
have to complain of. Rosie's a nice girl. 

Charlie. That's no reason for marrying her. A 
man can't marry all the nice girls he knows. 

John. But you've always been fond of her, ever 
since you were- children together. You used to call 
her your little friend. 

Charlie (lightly). Mere boy and girl flirtation. 

John. It looked more serious than that. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 31 

Charlie [exasperated). Serious ? Of course it was 
serious. What do you take me for ? Do you think 
I'd have consented to an engagement at any price 
if I hadn't loved her to distraction ? I've tried to 
cease loving her, to school myself to hate her because 
of what slie is— Thompson's daughter— and I've 
failed. The love I hoped to conquer only conquered 
me. It's no good fighting it. I know that now. 
John (triuniphantly). Very well then, if you love 

the girl 

Charlie {at hay). Wait a bit. We were engaged 
before my eyes Vere opened, before 'I'd seen the 
horrible injustice of the men's Uves in the works. 
I tell you it's wrong, all wrong. From the first 
rrioment that I realized it, I dedicated my iiie to 
tne men. All personal desires were at an end. 
Rosie — everything went by the board. It was the 
men, the men, aHvays the men. 
John. Pssh ! 

Charlie. I can't serve two masters. I can t 
waste time on marriage. I've a lifelong duty to 
perform. I've to battle for reform ; and hov^ can I 
be single-purposed in the fight if I'm tied to Rosie 
and accept a share of Thompson's tainted money ? 
John (hopelessly). Well, I can't understand. I 
never could, and I'm sure I don't want to interfere 
between you, but Jabez seems to think you've been 
engaged long enough. 

Charlie. ' I can't help that. There are two ways 
of ending an engagement, anyhow. 
loHN. Charlie, you promised. 
Charlie. Yes, if she insists. It's Rosie I'm 
engaged to, not Thompson. I'm not going to start 
married life on a lie, [Enter Rosie centre.) and I 
shan't start it at all if I can help it. I— 

Rosie. What are you two talking about so 
seriously ? Father's sent me to see. 

John. Has he, my dear? [Rising and moving 
as though he had suddenly grown tuijenty years older.) 



32 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

I think I will go to him. {Walking towards the door 
and mumbling again.) Yes, I think I will go to him. 



(Exit John by door r.c. A slight pause. Rosie 
looks at Charlie.) 

Rosie. Well, haven't you a word to throw at 
a dog ? (Charlie is silent.) Charlie, you're not 
ill, are you ? 

Charlie. Ill ? No. I'm all right. 

Rosie. Well, suppose you say " Good evening " 
to me. 

Charlie (collecting himself). I'm sorry. (He 
crosses over and kisses her perfunctorily, then sits down 
absent-mindedly on sofa. Rosie watches kirn for a 
m oment.) 

Rosie. You're not very brilhant to-night. 

Charlie. There's a depressing feeling in the air. 
H ave you felt it ? 

Rosie (compassionately) . You poor boy ! Father 
worries you with problems all day at the works, and 
when you come here in the evening its business 
again. No wonder you're depressed. (Going and 
sitting on the arm of the sofa.) Let me cheer you 
up. I'm not business, am I ? 

Charlie. No. But I think sometimes the prob- 
lems I face in the laboratory are child's play to 
those I've to face outside it. 

Rosie. Is it anything I can help with ? Let me 
try. 

Charlie. It is you. 

Rosie. Am I a problem ? (Rising and moving 
slightly away.) How exciting ! 

Charlie. It's not exciting. It's serious. 

Rosie (soberly, above sofa). And I'm not ? All 
right. I'll be serious, Charlie. What's the matter ? 

Charlie. Rosie, it's about — about our engage- 
ment. We've been engaged quite a long time now. 

Rosie. Two years. 



DEALING IN FUTURES.- 33 

Charlie. Yes. It seems people are -wondering 
why we don't get married. 

RosiE (simply). I'm ready when you are, Charhe. 

Charlie. Yes — yds. That's just it. 

RosiE. What ? 

Charlie. It's a difficult thing to say, but I'm 
not ready. 

Rosie {sympathetically, standing in front o] soja). 
I don't think I mind very much what people say, 
Charlie. If you want me to wait a little longer, I 
can wait. I don't want to hurry you. You must 
choose your own time. {More lightly.) So that's 
all right and the cloud's passed now. 

Charlie {moved). Oh — if you only knew how 
hard you're miaking it for me. You're too good, 
too true to reahze what a weakling I am, what a 
criminal fool I've been to let things go on to this 
stage. 

Rosie {startled). Charlie, what do you mean ? 

Charlie {rising and crossing to Rosie). I'm 
going to hurt you, Rosie. It's all my cursed fault. 
Try to think of me as kindly as you can. Rosie, 
it's not a case of waiting a little longer. I wish to 
God it was. It's that I can't marry you at 
all. 

Rosie. You can't marry me ! 

Charlie. Oh, don't think worse of me than you 
must. It's not another woman. It never was and 
it never can be. I shall never love any one but yoii. 

Rosie. Then why, why ? 

Charlie. My hfe's too full. 

Rosie {ivonderingly) . Your life ? 

Charlie. Yes. How shall I put it ? (Crossing 
to soja L.) A Catholic priest doesn't marry lest 
marriage distract him from his wrestle with the 
devil. I too am going to wrestle with a devil— the 
devil of industrialism. I've things to do in the 
world, a battle to fight which can only be fought in 
the strength of loneliness. 



M DEALING IN FUTURES. 

RosiE {a little hardly). Yet you engaged yoarse]f 
to me. 

Charlie. Two years ago. I didn't see it then 
Day by day it ]ias become clearer. The task I 
have to do reveals itself. Oh, I dare say I don't 
put things well. I know I must show up like a 
blackguard for not telling you before. It's been 
inevitable for months, but I let things slide and 
there it is. We're up against it now. (Pause.) 

RosiE. Yes. We're up against it now. Only 
it takes tv/o to make a bargain, Charlie. If you 
can be obstinate, so can I. 

Charlie. What do you mean? 

RosiE. I mean that I know you better than you 
know yourself and a hundred times better than you 
know me. You and your Catholic priest ! In the 
Church I belong to priests marry, and I've yet to 
learn that they fight the devil any the worse for it. 
I don't believe that the strongest man is he who stands 
most alone when there's a woman in love with him. 
You don't knovj me yet, Charlie. If you think I'd 
let you go for the sake of your wrestle with the 
devil, you're mistaken. The devil might throve you 
if 3/0U wrestled him alone, but he'll have less chance 
if I'm there to pull his tail. 

Charlie. You won't release me ? 

RosiE. Never. Oh, you needn't be afraid. I 
dare say I've a surprise in store for you. You'll be 
none the worse for having a woman by your side 
and I know I'm the right woman. There's only 
one way of making you beheve it, and that is by 
marr3dng you and proving it. I'mi not afraid. 

Charlie. Well, I am. {Crossing to r.c.) You're 
assuming that I'm the ordinary sort of fool who 
thinks money's everything. I may be a lunatic, 
but^ I'm not that brand. I want' to be left alone. 
I want a decent chance of living my life in my own 
way. As things are, I'm caged. I'm at the bottom 
of an infamous well, and there's a window somewhere 



DEALING IN FUTURES. ' 35 

far up, but I can't reach it. I can't find the way 
out. (RosiE smiles compassionately.) Now, you're 
laughing at me. You ! Rosie, harmless, necessary 
Rosie, whom I've always thought of as the type of 
bread and butter miss. 

Rosie. And you're surprised to find her a woman 
with a will of her own ? 

Charlie. You won't let me go ? {Crossing to 
L.c.) 

Rosie. Never. 

Charlie. Do you know what you are doing ? 

Rosie [confidently). Oh, yes. 

Charlie. You don't. You think you're being 
my guardian angel. You think you're helping me. 
As a matter of fact, you're hanging a millstone round 
my neck which will drag me down to the lowest 
depths of human misery. If it wasn't so utterly 
tragic I could laugh for a week at the silliness of it 
all. I'm not allowed an opinion of my own. I'm 
not to diverge by one hand's breadth from the path 
laid down for me. I'm to marry the wife you choose 
and do the work you choose and own the wealth 
you choose and take the place in society laid down 
for me. I'm not a man. I'm a specimen in a case 
with a pin through my body. I'm clay in the hands 
of the potter. I'm 

Rosie. You're the man I love. (Charlie collapses 
into chair l. of table.) 

Charlie. That's the last straw. I suppose I 
shall have that thrown in my face all my life. 

Rosie (reflectively). Let ms see. Shall we say 
April 25 ? Lent will be over by then. 

Charlie. Say what you like. I haven't a kick 
left in me. 

Rosie (going to door c. and calling). Father, 
father ! 

(Enter Jabez and John in their shirt-sleeves with 
billiard cues.) 



36 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Jabez. Well, my dear. What is it ? (c. behind 
table, John crosses R.c. Rosie is back l.c.) 

RosiE. Father, Charhe wants us to be married 
on April 25. 

Jabez. The young scamp. What a hurry he's 
in. Well, well, young people will be young people, 
eh, John ? (Nudges John.) 

John. Thank you, my boy, thank you. You 
don't know what this means to me. 

Jabez. Yes, this saves a lot of trouble, Charhe. 
You're going to be a sensible fellow, after all. 

(Patting Charlie's shoulder. John turns gratefully 
to Rosie.) 



Curtain. 



ACT II. 

The next morning. Thompson's office at the works. 
Doors L. and at the extreme R.c. Opposite the door 
. L. is a desk with revolving arm-chair. Fireplace 
at the hack centre, table against the wall by the fire- 
place. A couple of revolving arm-chairs. Carpet 
on floor. Jabez believes in working in comfort. 
Small hat-rack attached to wall by the door l. Tele- 
phone receiver on the desk, speaking tube protruding 
from the wall by the chair and handbell on desk, 
which is open. Clock on mantelpiece points to 9.55- 

LoMAX is an elderly man with iron-grey hair, clean- 
shaven, and has the appearance of a confidential 
head clerk or cashier, which in fact he is. He arranges 
a few open letters on the desk and puts a paper weight 
on them as Charlie enters l. bringing in Mrs. 
WiLCOCK, a careworn woman of thirty, dressed in 
black with shabby- skirt, heavy incongruous mantle 
and beaded bonnet. A considerable nervousness is 
added to her distress. 

Charlie (sympathetically). Come in here, Mrs. 
Wilcock. 

Mrs. Wilcock {entering shyly, seeing Lomax and 
"bobbing" towards him). Thank ye, sir. 

Charlie. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. 
(Pulling chair across towards fire.) Good morning, 
Mr. Lomax. 

Lomax (crossing to l.). Good morning, sir. 

(Exit Lomax, l. Mrs. Wilcock sits on the edge 

of the chair.) 
37 



38 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Mrs. Wil. {anxiously). Do you think as A'm 
doing the reeght thing, Mr. Bunting, sir ? 

Charlie (standing by her r.). Oh, yes, quite right, 
Mrs. Wilcock. 

Mrs. Wil. (volubly). They all told me A mun 
coom an' see the master. A weren't sure if it were 
proper. But there's not above a two three shilling 
in th' 'ouse, an' wheer money's to coom from for th' 
burying A dunno. Six childer to find black for an' 
all, an' none oi 'em old enough to be earning. 

Charlie (with his back to fire). Don't let that 
trouble you, Mrs. Wilcock. I'll see to that. 

Mrs. Wil. It's all coom so sudden. He coom 
out to his work as cheerful as could be, an' when 
they browi him whoam to me a steam roller might 
a'gone o'er 'im. 

Charlie (shuddering). Yes, yes. I saw him. 

Mrs. Wil. The neighbours 'as been that good 
to me you wouldn't believe. One's lent me this 
cape an' another's loaned me this bonnet. A'd 
nobbut a skirt masel' as was anyways black. It's 
not as if we'd been in a buryin' club. Takes us folk 
all our time to go on livin' when theer's six young 
mouths to fill an' another comin'. 

Charlie. Well, you mustn't distress yourself 
about the funeral, Mrs. Wilcock. I'll make that 
my business. 

Mrs. Wil. (with tears). Bless you, sir, tha's takken 
a load off my mind. A couldn't abide thowt o' my 
man's not bein' buried proper. 

Charlie. What you've got to talk to Mr. Thomp- 
son about is the future. 

Mrs. Wil. (resignedly). It'll 'ave to be th' 'ouse 
for me. 

Charlie. Oh, nonsense. You'll get compensation. 

Mrs. Wil. Must A ask the master for it, sir ? 

Charlie. Certainly. 

Mrs. Wil. A misdoubt A'll never 'ave th' face 
to do it. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 39 

Charlie. You've nothing to b:' afraid of It'll 
be all right, Mrs. Wilcock. 

Mrs. Wil. {dohfully). A neve: thovvt as mine 
'ud be work as childiren. 

Charlie. They won't be. You needn't fear 
that. (DowDEN, a young clerk of about tw::nty -eight, 

open^ the dojy l. He is cjvsfully dressed, but his 

clothes h2ve seen better days.) 

DowDEN. Dr. Clavering to see you, sir. 

(Enter Clavering, l. Dowden shuts the door.) 

Charlie. Hullo, old man ! 

Clavering. Good morning, 

Charlie. This is Mrs. Wilcock. 

Clay, [properly sympathetic). Oh, yes. Good 
morning. Very sorry to hear about your husband, 
Mrs. Wilcock. (r.c.) 

Mrs. Wil. {tearfully). Yes, sir. (Charlie goes 
to the door L. and opens it.) 

Charlie. Oh, Dowden. (Dowden appears.) 

Dowden. Yes, sir ? 

Charlie. Just give Mrs. Wilcock a chair by the 
counting house fire, till Mr. Thompson comes, will 
you ? Go with this gentleman, Mrs. Wilcock. {She 
rises and he walks with her to the door.) Now,' don't 
you fret. You v/on't have to go to the workhouse. 

Mrs. Wil. Thank you, sir. {She goes out with 
Dowden, l.) 

Clav. Are you sure of that ? 

Charlie. God knov/s, but the insurance people 
shan't rob her if I can help it. Isn't it damnable, 
Clavering ? 

Clav. Yes. But it won't last for ever. 

Charlie. The book, you mean. {Taking a book 
from his pocket.) 

Clav. Yes, the book. Hullo, do you carry it 
about with you ? 

Charlie. I'm going to give this to Thompson 
to-day. 



40 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Clav. Are you ? 

Charlie {a little anxiously). It's all right, I 
suppose ? About the publication ? 

Clav. Oh, yes. I heard from Mitchell this 
morning. It will be published to-morrow. 

Charlie. That's good. 

Clav, Yes. What I came to show you was this. 
{Taking paper from an envelope from his inside pocket.) 
It's simply gorgeous. 

Charlie. What is it ? 

Clav. Well, I've a friend on the London Morning 
News, q^wqI I got Mitchell to see he had a cop}^ of the 
book. 

Charlie. Yes ? 

Clav. (handing him the proof). He sent me a 
proof of his review by this morning's post. That's 
it. He's done us well. 

Charlie. By Jove. That's luck. 

Clav. Yes. It's a storming notice. 

Charlie. Things are going to move a bit now 
the book's coming out. It'll waken people up to 
a realization of the kind of thing that's done in the 
name of profit. 

Clav. (impatiently). Yes. I haven't time to stay 
now. ' I must get on with my round. 

Charlie. Of course. Don't let me detain you, 
old man. I'll read this at once. Thanks for bringing 
it. 

Clav. Right you are. Good-bye. I'll go this 
way. It's shorter. (Opening door at hack R.c.) 

Charlie. Do. Good-bye. 

(Exit Clavering, r.c. Charlie unfolds the proof 
and reads it, moving towards the door at hack. Enter 

LOMAX.) 

LoMAX. Mr. Thompson has just come in, sir. 
(Crossing to desk.) 
Charlie. All right. Let him know Mrs. Wil- 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 41 

cock's there. I shall be in the laboratory if he asks 
for me. 

(.Exit Charlie, r.c. Lomax fusses about the desk 
for a moment. Jabez comes in L. takes off his 
hat and coat and hangs them by the door. Lomax 
stands to attention at the desk.) 

Jabez. Good morning, Lomax. 

Lomax {deferentially). Good morning, sir. (Pause.) 

Jabez. Anything fresh there ? 

Lomax. Not very much, I'm afraid. 

Jabez. There's not much trade about, these 
days. (Sitting at his desk.) 

Lomax. No, sir. Cranbury's haven't sent their 
cheque again. 

Jabez. Haven't they? Well, Lm waitmg no 
longer. You'd better ring up Charlton and get him 
to take it in hand. You might attend to this lot. 
(Handing him some letters.) 

Lomax. Yes, sir. 

Jabez. That's all. (Lomax coughs.) Well, what 

is it ? 

Lomax. That matter of young Dowden, sir. 
You said you would speak to him to-day. 

Jabez. Oh, yes, of course. (Takes down speaking 
tube and blows : then puts it to his mouth.) Send 
Dowden to me. (Replaces tube.) Let me see- 
invoice desk, isn't he ? 

Lomax. Yes, sir. 

Jabez. You're quite sure he's getting restive ? 

Lomax. Absolutely. I thought he'd ask for a 
rise last week. It's been on his tongue three or 
four times or I shouldn't have mentioned it to you. 
A look from me generally keeps them quiet if they 
only half mean it. 

Jabez. What does he get ? 

Lomax. Twenty-two shillings. 

Jabez. What's he hkely to ask for ? 

Lomax. I shouldn't wonder if he asked thirty, 



42 DEALING IN FUTURES 

sir. For one thing it's three years since he had a 
rise, and for another he keeps his mother. 

Jabez. Has she got any money ? 

LoMAX. I fancy not, sir. 

Jabez. Good. That'll k^eo him steady. That's 
the kind we want, Lomax. He can't afford to take 
risks. Good worker of course ? 

Lomax. Excellent. None better. 

Jabez. Age ? 

Lomax. Twenty-eight, sir. (A knock.) Shall I 
go, sir ? 

Jabez. No. Stay here. (Calling.) Come in. 

(Enter Dowden, l. ; he is obviously extremely nervous 
over his " carpeting " before his employer. Lomax 
stands above desk.) 

Jabez (beaming paternally on him, -with his elbows 
on the arms of his chair and his finger-tips together.) 
Come in, Dowden. Don't be nervous, man. No 
one's going to hurt you. (Dowden shuts door and 
moves towards Jabez.) This is one of those pleasant 
interludes in the life of an employer which make it 
worth the living. You have pleased me, Dowden. 

Dowden. Yery good of you to say so, Fm sure, 
sir. 

^ Jabez. Mr. Lomax has spoken most favourably 
of you. Good lad, good lad. We've been putting 
our heads together and we're going to raise your 
salary to — twenty-five shillings a v/eek. 

Dowden. Thank you, sir. Thank you very much 
indeed. (Nervously.) Only, sir, I was going to 
ask 

Jabez (interrupting). Don't thank me, Dowden. 
You owe it to your own good v/ork. Go on in the 
same way and you may come to me again in a year's 
time, Fll see you right. Mr. Lomax just make a 
note of that, will you ? That will do, Dowden. 

Dowden. Yes, sir, and thank you, sir. 
(Exit Dowden, l.) 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 43 

Jabez. Settled his hash for a year anyhow, 
Lorn ax. Just let me know of any similar symptom.s 
in good men. It always pays to take tims by the 
forelock in these little matters. 

LoMAX. It does that, sir. You prove it. You've 
the cheapest office staff in the country for its size. 

Jabez {chaffing him genially). You think so, 
Lomax ? 

LoMAX. I'm sure of it, sir. 

Jabez. I sometimes think the cashier makes a 
big hole in the salary list, eh, Lomax ? 

Lomax {alarmed). I'm sure I 

Jabez. Yes, yes. I'm not thinking of cutting 
you down, Lomax. Only, one has to fix a Hmit. 
You might bear that in mind. 

Lomax. Yes, sir. 

Jabez. That will do then. (Lomax turns to go.) 
Oh, by the way, is Mr. Charles in his room ? 

Lomax. I think so, sir. 

Jabez. You might ask him to step this wa}^ 

Lomax. Yes, sir. 

(Exit Lomax, r.c. Jabez opens a side drawer in his 
desk, takes out a cigar box, selects and lights a cigar, 
and goes to fireplace and turns hack to fire ivith the 
air of a man who, having done a good morning s 
work, may legitimately permit himself some reward. 
Enter Charlie, r.c.) 

Jabez. Good morning, Charlie. Hope you slept 
well. 

Charlie. Good morning. Can't say I did. 

Jabez. You'll soon get over that. At your age 
a night's rest more or less makes no difference. Did 
I interrupt some particularly promising experiment ? 

Charlie. No. I haven't been experimenting 
to-day. I've been engaged with some of the men. 

Jabez. Really ? Well, there's no accounting for 
tastes. You're a queer fish. 



44 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Charlie. You didn't send for me to tell me that, 
I suppose ? 

Jabez {blowing smoke and watching it rise). Eh ? 
No, I suppose I didn't. Have a cigar ? 

Charlie. No thanks. 

Jabez. No ? Well, now that you've come to 
your senses the thing is to see about what arrange- 
ments we must make. To begin with, I think we'd 
better fix you up a desk in here. 

Charlie (wearily). Yes. 

Jabez. We'll have that table out and one put 
there. Or is that too near the fire for you* ? 

Charlie. Oh, anywhere. 

Jabez. You see, you'll have to work under my 
supervision at first and then begin gradually to take 
the responsibility off my shoulders. I shall be glad 
of a rest, Charlie. 

Charlie. Don't you think you are taking a good 
deal for granted ? 

Jabez. Why ? 

Charlie. I told you I'd not slept. A man can 
do a lot of thinking in eight hours. 

Jabez. What, you mean to say 

Charlie. That I've thought the whole thing 
over. 

Jabez. Well ? 

Charlie. It's not good enough. It's — it's dis- 
honourable. 

Jabez {angrily). Dishonourable, sir ? What the 
devil do you mean ? 

Charlie. I'm the only bulwark the men have. 
If I marry Rosie — sell myself to you — it means push- 
ing the men back into "'their old places just when 
they're ready to make some show of fighting and 
want all the help I can give them. 

Jabez. For God's sake do leave the men out of 
it for one moment. It's you I'm talking about, not 
them. You gave me your word last night. 

Charlie. I know I did. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 45. 

Jabez {sneeringly). You needn't talk so much 
about honour. 

Charlie. Oh, there are things I value more than 
an empty phrase. That hft accident made me 
reahze once again how much I'm needed and how 
httle I could do if I married Rosie. I've seen Mrs. 
Wilcock this morning. Oh, it's pitiful ! 

Jabez. Now, could I help the Hft breaking down ? 

Charlie. No, but you could help a hundred other 
things happening, only safety apparatus costs money 
and men are cheap. Last night's accident was only 
the last straw. The men need me and I won't 
forsake them. 

Jabez. Who's asking you to forsake them ? I'm 
only asking you to carry out your engagement. 
Good heavens, it's a chance any man in his senses 
would jump at. 

Charlie. I'm sorry I don't agree. 

Jabez. You play fast and loose with me, my lad, 
and I'll ruin your father for it. Don't forget that. 

Charlie. Look here, suppose I let you force my 
hand. Suppose I married Rosie under compulsion, 
what sort of a time do you fancy she'd have ? What's 
to prevent me taking it out of you by cruelty to the 
daughter you love ? 

Jabez {recovering his temper). No you don't, my 
boy. It's very clever of you. Upon my word, I'm 
glad to hear you talk hke that. After all, you've 
the makings of a business man about you, but I'm 
too old a bird to be caught by a bluff hke that. You 
know very well you're talking through your hat. 
You couldn't do it. Besides, even if I wasn't sure 
of you I'm sure of Rosie. I'm a long way more 
frightened for you than I am for her, my boy. She's 
managed me all her life, and if there's going to be any 
bullying when you're married, take my word, it's 
not you that'll do it. You see, I know Rosie. 

Charlie. Very well then. You compel me to 
take other measures. 



46 DEALINCx IN FUTURES. 

Jabez. What, still fighting? You're getting 
quite pugnacious, Charhe. {Crossing to cupboard l. 
and unlocking it.) 

Charlie. Don't laugh at me. I won't be laughed 
at. 

Jabez. Then don't make yourself ridiculous, my 
boy. Every man feels like you do when he's booked 
his passage. But most of us have it out with our- 
selves. We don't talk about it, but we all get a fit 
of funk and want to back out if we can. It's a 
natural reaction. Come, pull yourself together, 
Charlie. Have a whisky and soda. {He takes a 
decanter, glass and syphon from cupboard and places 
on top of it.) 

Charlie (for a moment half laughing at himself). 
You make very certain that I'm not an embryonic 
wife-beater. 

Jabez {with the decanter in his hand). You won't ? 

Charlie. No thanks. (Jabez mixes a drink for 
himself.) 

Jabez {meditatively). Yes, I think a desk will do 
very well in place of that table. 

Charlie. I refuse to sit at it. 

Jabez. Oh, I don't think so. {Walking up with 
drink and sitting l. of fire, putting glass on mantel.) 
You see, Charlie, your father's so very respectable ; 
he simply radiates respectability. Gad, I shall never 
forget old John's face when he was up in town with 
me for the first time and I took him to the Empire. 
He got used to it later on, though. But it's different 
down here. He's the champion bazaar opener of 
the district. Quite a great man in his way is old 
John. Yes, we can't have a scandal, Charlie. It 
really would not do. 

Charlie. You must do as you like about that. 
It's his affair. And anyhow it's absurd to talk of 
it as a scandal. 

Jabez. He wouldn't say so. How shockingly 
unfiHal you are ! 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 47 

Charlie. Possibly. I've myself to look after. 
Tabez. Still fighting ? {He takes a dnnk.\ 
Charlie Yes. If I can't touch you through 
Rosie. I car touch you through something still dearer 

^^jIbez (sarcastically). And what may that be? 
Charlie. Your pocket. 
Tabez. What do you mean ? , 

Charlie. Oh. you shall know. Ill give you 
fair warning. 

Jabez (rising). What is it ? t\..,^\^ 

Charlie. The men. They're not blind. Thev re 
no longer the passive fools their fathers were. 
Tabez. Well ? . . ^ 

Charlie. You were pleased to be angry with me 
last night when I explained why I undertook labora- 
tory work. I can t help that. My sympathies are 
all with the men, not the master. If it comes to a 
fight I shall be on their side, not yours. You— oh, 
I don't expect you to understand, but with me, 
altruism is a religion. 

Tabez. A religion ! Is that all t 
Charlie. What more can it be ?_ 
Tabez My dear fellow, religion is a respectable 
pastime for Sundays, but it's got nothing to do with 
every-day hfe except for parsons and old women 
In this country, you can be , a Mohamnaedan or a 
Mormon if you hke, but I can't see that it will make 
any material difference in your ordinary ^nduct 

Charlie. Can't you ? I'm different. My religion 
is a thing I beheve in on weekdays, a thmg i acr 
upon and hve up to as far as I can. 

Jabez. Aren't we gettmg away from the point . 
Charlie. The point is the men. , 

Jabez. Exactly. I'^ have no tampering w^th 
the men, Charlie, no putting ideas above their station 

into their heads. , x n iu.o fV^af 

Charlie. Ifs fifty years too late to talk like that^ 
As a matter of fact, I'm going to address a meeting 



48 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

of the men to-night. And I shall take their part. 
They know it. I've the gifts of the mob orator. 
(Chuckle from Jabez.) God knows it's a sorry gift 
to boast about, but it will serve my turn. I can 
sway a crowd. I've done it time and again in de- 
bates. 

Jabez. (Pause, then) Where is this meeting ? 
(Crosses to desk, sitting to face audience.) 

Charlie. The Assembly Hall. I am as certain 
as I stand here that I can work my will upon them. 
I shall advise a strike, and strike they shall unless 

Jabez. Oh, you've got your price then ? (Sneer- 
ingly.) 

Charlie. Yes. It's cowardly, but I have. It's 
against my convictions, but, as you say, I have my 
price. 

Jabez. What is it ? 

Charlie. Freedom of action. (Crosing towards 
Jabez.) Laboratory work and no other and release 
from the mockery of an engagement with Rosie. 

. (Enter John, l.) 

Jabez. Hullo, John. Good morning. Glad you 
called. (Charlie goes to fireplace.) 

John. Good morning, Jabez. (Crossing to Jabez.) 
Yes, I called about the monthly accounts. I've got 
the total here, if you'll sign me a cheque. 

Jabez (grimly). You'd better talk to Charlie about 
that. 

John. Charhe ! 

Jabez. Yes. Here he is with a bee in his bonnet 
as usual. Look at him, John. 

John. What is it, Charhe? Wasn't everything 
settled last night ? 

Jabez. Oh, you're not quite up to date, John. 
We move fast nowadays, don't we, Charhe ? 

Charlie. I wish to God we did. (Sitting on arm- 
chair L. of fire.) 



DEALING IN FUTURES 49 

Jabez. The latest is that some fools amongst 
the men want to strike. Lord knows what they 
think they'll get by striking, but let me introduce 
you. John, to the strike leader. 

John. Charhe, you couldn't 

Jabez. Oh, he beheves in variety, John, that's 
what it is. Last night Rosie, this morning no Rosie. 
The men are the latest love. It's off with the old 
and on with the new. 

John. Don't be hard on me, Jabez. I can't 
bear it. 

Jabez. I've to look after number one, John. 
John {appealingly). Charlie ! 
Charlie. It's no good, father. I can't betray 
my principles. 

Jabez. And I can't sign that cheque, John. Per- 
haps Charlie's prepared to be your banker. 

John. It means (Sitting l. of desk.) 

Jabez. Oh, I know what it means. (Rises, goes 
c, drains glass and turns on Charlie.) Listen to 
me, Charhe. I'll have no meddling with the men. 
That's all over and done with. Understand ouce 
for all that it's hands off the men. I'll have no dis- 
content amongst my men. I don't want men who'll 
think. I want men who'll work. (Doim l. to cup- 
board and putting glass on top of it.) 

Charlie. To think is to be discontented. Dis- 
content is divine. 

Jabez. Don't talk rubbish, sir. We are told to 
be content with the station into which it has pleased 
Providence to place us. 

Charlie (passionately). Virtue on ten thousand 
a year ! This is your rich man's God, who is at home 
to you in his church one day a week from 10.30 to 
12 and 6.30 to 8. You don't go because you hope to 
get a little dirt washed off your shop-soiled soul. 
You go because it isn't respectable to stop away. 
For six days you serve Mammon, and on the seventh 
you follow your gregarious instincts and crowd mto 

D 



50 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

a church in your sleek broadcloth, and only the 
effort of keeping a properly sanctimonious expression 
on your v/ell-fed face prevents you from falling asleep 
in your padded pew. That's your middle-class re- 
ligion and your middle-class Providence. Don't 
talk to me of Providence till you can show me a 
Providence which provides. 

Jabez. Rank blasphemy, sir. {Going up to 
Charlie, settling his collar irritably.) Don't talk 
to me as if I was a nonconformist. 

Charlie. Nonconformist ? No, you conform to 
everything. You began in a rut and you'll stay in 
the rut till you die. 

Jabez. A rut ! 

Charlie. Yes, the gutter where you poke in 
shme for sixpences, afraid to look up at God's blue 
sky or about you at your fellow-men lest some one 
else should pick up a sixpence while your head's 
turned. Oh, you conform right enough. You do 
nothing else. You conform to Success and Respect- 
ability, and they're the stronghold of the Devil. 

Jabez {recovering his temper, sitting down at desk 
and rubbing his hands genially, looking at John, 
laughing.) Sit down, Charlie. 

Charlie. Thanks, I can say all I have to say 
standing. 

Jabez. Oh, but this is delightful. As good as a 
pantomime, isn't it, John ? Go on, Charlie. It's 
amusing^ you and doing me no harm. 

Charlie. Yes, that's the pity of it. It's doing 
you no harm. You'll have your dog's day. You'll 
go on accumulating the money you've no need of 
because you're in the grip of the money habit. You 
couldn't Stop 'fobbing your impotent employes if 
you vv'anted to. The looting instinct's in your 
blood. 

Jabez {calmly.) I am doing what I conceive to 
be my duty, the duty of every man — to make as 
much as I can bv honourable and businesslike methods. 



DEALING IX FUTURES. 



51 



My father did it and hi? father before him. My 
son would do it if I had one. 

Charlie. Hereditary money-grubbing. That's 
typical. It's our idea of progress and self-reliance 
and thinking things out for one's self. {He pauses, 
hand on mantel, looking into fire.) 

Jabez (pause). What, dried up? Well, I've let 
you have your iiing. You are like any other child, 
Charhe. You've been hurt and you're crying, only 
you put your squeal into words. A child only howls, 
while the natural impulse of the adult is to curse 
something or somebody. Have yon said all you 
wanted to ? 

John. Charlie, for Heaven's sake 

Charlie {facing Jabez). Oh, I'd more to say. 
But that will do. I've wasted my breath, but it's 
done me good to give it you straight from the shoulder 
for once. After all. you're not a millionaire or a trust 
president. You're precious small beer as employers 
go nov/adays. 

Jabez. Oh, so that's all right, and I'm put in my 
proper place, eh, Charhe ? And vou've let off steam 
now instead of to the men to-night. 

Charlie. That's as may be. I've not done yet. 

Jabez {to John). This fellow's solved the problem 
of perpetual motion, John. What is it this time ? 

Charlie {taking a small hook from his pocket). 
Do you know what this is ? 

Jabez. It looks like a book. 

Charlie. It is. Just have a look at it. {Offering 
it.) 

Jabez. I'm not interested in literature. 

Charlie. This will interest you. {Holding the 
book out towards him.) 

Jabez {snatching it and reading the title). " An 
Inquiry into the Condition of the Workers in our Chem- 
ical Industries, by Walter Clavering, M.D." What's 
this ? Clavering ? This isn't Hke what I know of 
Clavering. I wonder what his ^am.e is ? 



52 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Charlie. He hasn't got a game, as you call it. 
Clavering's in earnest about it. [Going up to fire.) 
Jabez. I'm afraid you're a bad judge of char- 
acter, Charlie. (Turning over the pages.) What's 
this ? " Illustrated by Photographs by Charles 
Bunting." 

Charlie. Oh, yes. I had a hand in it. 
Jabez. You damned young scamp. 
Charlie. That's an advance copy. The book's 
not published yet. 

Jabez. I'll take good care it never is. 
Charlie (smiling). It will be pubhshed to-morrow. 
Here's a proof of a review of it by a chum o\ Claver- 
ing's. This review will appear in a London paper 
to-morrow. It will tell you all about the book. 
Shall I read it to you ? (Taking a proof sheet from 
his breast pocket.) 
Jabez. Go ahead. 

Charlie (reading from the proof as if selecting de- 
tached sentences, mumbling a few words between each). 
" The book bears on every page the sign-manual of 
sincerity. Its facts are an incontrovertible proof 
of the inadequacy of our factory law administration 
to cope with the rapacity and unscrupulousness of 
manufacturers. A book to read not only with the 
eyes, but with the heart. The author shas drawn 
public attention to a festering sore in our midst. 
The great heart of the pubhc cannot fail to be moved 
by such an exposure of man's inhumanity to man. 
Something must be done to counteract such infamy. 
There can be no delay." (Mumbling, as if looking 
for a further selection.) 

Jabez. Stop ! This is intimidation. It's black- 
mail. Clavering — you know very well he came to 
me with some cranky respirator he'd patented. This 
is his revenge on me for refusing to take up his rotten 
patent. It's libel. I'll ruin him for it. 

Charlie. Hadn't you better read the book before 
you talk like that ? 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 5.3 

Jabez. That for your book. {Thvowing it in the 
paper basket.) I'll buy up the edition. I'll suppress 
it. I'll 

Charlie. No, you won't. The publisher happens 
to be an honest man. 

Jabez. What the devil do you mean by taking 
a hand in this game ? Haven't I trouble enough as 
it is with the factory acts and their confounded regu- 
lations ? The men are pampered like lords with 
their grandmotherly legislation. 

Charlie. They're poisoned, and you know it. 
You refused to use his safety device, and he's naturally 
taken the only course open to him of arousing public 
opinion and forcing your hand. I was glad to help 
him. 

Jabez. You young idiot. Can't you see through 
his game ? He wants to make .money out of his 
patent safety respirator. He doesn't care a hang 
for the condition of the men. If he chd, he wouldn't 
have put the price up by patenting his thing. No, 
my friend, he wants to do his philanthropy on twenty- 
five per cent, terms at some one else's expense. 

Jabez (con.). And you fall into his trap like the 
blessed innocent you are and help him to blackm.ail 
me. 

Charlie. You're wrong. Everybody's not as 
mercenary as you. You've got so used to expressing 
every idea in terms of L.S.D. that you can't under- 
stand a man's doing anything from higher motives 
than money. 

Jabez. Look here, Charlie, where do you think 
I'd be if I took up every notion that every crank 
brings along to me ? The men are insured, aren't 
they? 

Charlie. Yes, and a bad bargain the insurance 
people have of it. 

Jabez. Then what do the fellows want with safety 
devices ? They get their compensation. The busi- 
ness won't stand more expense, Charhe. You'd 



54 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

know that if you'd done as I wished and taken an 
interest in the management. Goodness knows it's 
hard enough to get profits as it is. 

Charlie, Then don't try. Close down. 

Jabez. And throw the men out of work ? Fine 
remedy that 'ud be. They'd thank me for that, 
wouldn't they? (After a slight pause, rising.) That 
doctor's got to be muzzled though. 

Charlie. You can't muzzle a man. You can 
only muzzle dogs. 

Jabez. Can't I ? I'll bet you I get him to sup- 
press that book if it's really dangerous. I'll have 
a look at it in a moment. And I'll tell you some- 
thing more, my lad. If I catch you meddling with 
the men, I'll make your father sit up for it. 

Charlie. I shall address the men to-night. 

Jabez. I don't think you will. Look here, John, 
you'd better try again. See if you can't make a 
better job of it than you did last night, and I'll sign 

the cheque in the morning. If not (John 

makes a gesture of appeal to Charlie.) 

Charlie. It's no good, father. 

Jabez. I leave it with you, John. Take him 
off to your laboratory, Charlie, and talk it over. 
(Charlie drops fonvard to John.) 

Charlie. Come along. Dad. 

(Exeunt Charlie and John, r.c. Jabez loosens his 
collar mechanically, puts his hands in his pockets, 
takes a handjul of coins from one pocket, rolls it in 
his hands and transfers it to the other ; then sits 
at his desk, takes up the speaking tube, blows and 
spfaks through it.) 

Jabez. Just telephone to Dr. Clavering and say 
I'll be obhged if he will step round here and see me 
at once. 

(He replaces the tube. Jabez takes the book from the 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 55 

paper basket and turns its pages over while speaking 
to LoMAX. Enter Lomax, r.c.) 

Jabez. Oh, about that accident last night, Lomax. 
(Looks up from the hook and turns round on his ehair 
to face Lomax.) 

Lomax. Yes, sir. I was coming to you about 
it when you were disengaged. Mrs. Wilcock is wait- 
ing in the office. 

Jabez. Who's Mrs. Wilcock ? The widow ? 

Lomax. Yes. 

Jabez. Oh, I can't be bothered with her. That's 
the insurance people's job. Send her away. (Lomax 
hows and is going l., he turns as Jabez rises, crosses 
to fire and speaks again.) Have you — do you happen 
to have heard what the men make of the accident ? 

Lomax. No, sir. That is, not' exactly. 

Jabez. Speak up, man. Are they grumbling ? 

Lomax {coughing). I understand that there have 
been a few remarks passed. 

Jabez. Strong ones, eh ? Um Got your 

potebook ? 

Lomax. No, sir. Lll {Turning towards door 

L.) 

Jabez. Never mind. Sit down here. (Lomax 
sits in Jabez's chair.) Write. (Lomax bends to 
write.) Wait a moment. {Lomax looks up.) When's 
the inquest fixed for ? 

Lomax. Wednesday, sir. 

Jabez. That's the 17th. Funeral the next day, 
I suppose ? 

Lomax. Yes, sir. 

Jabez. Very well. (Motioning him to write. 
Lomax bends over and ivrites. Jabez crosses to desk 
and stands over Lomax, dictating.) 

" In view of the distressing accident which oc- 
curred last night, it has been decided to grant a half- 
holiday to the entire staff with full pay on the after- 
noon of the i8th inst., in order " 



56 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

LoMAX. One moment, sir. 

Jabez. Got that ? 

LoMAX. " The i8th inst." Yes, sir. 

Jabez. " In order to give all an opportunity of 
attending the funeral ceremony." Finished ? 

LoMAX (pause, then, rising). Yes, sir. 

Jabez {crossing hack to fire). Do you chance to 
know, Lomax, if there happens to be a football match 
that afternoon ? 

Lomax (coughing deprecatorily). I don't follow 
the sport myself, but I fancy it's the usual mid-week 
day. 

Jabez. Ah. Have twenty copies of that notice 
typed and bring them here. I'll sign them myself. 
Then send them out to the departments, and — er — 
you might see that one comes in the way of the 
reporters at the inquest. 

Lomax. Yes, sir. (Going.) 

Jabez (sitting). Oh, and,* Lomax! (Lomax turns 
at door.) Just mention casually to one or two of 
the foremen that attendance at the funeral is not 
comptrtsory. No names will be taken. And let 
me know if you happen to Iqarn how the announce- 
ment is received. 

Lomax. Certainly, sir. 

Jabez. That will do. 

(Exit Lomax, l. Jabez continues interested in his 
hook. A whistle at the tuhe. Jabez replies and 
puts it to his ear, then speaks down it.) 

Jabez. Show Dr. Clavering in here. (Replaces 
tuhe. Presently Dowden opens the door L. and Dr. 
Clavering enters. Dowden closes the door after 
him and goes without speaking. Jabez rises and 
meets Clavering genially.) 

Jabez. Ah, come in, doctor. I'm glad you were 
able to come so quickly. (They shake hands.) 

Clavering. I'd just got in when your message 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 57 

'came, so I was able to come at once. How are you, 
Mr. Thompson ? 

Jabez. Eh ? (Surprised at the professional tone.) 
Oh, I'm all right. There's never anything the matter 
with me. 

Clav. Oh, it's not yourself, then. I understood 
you wished to see me personally. Is there another 
accident case ? 

Jabez. Oh, no, there's nothing wrong. Er — 
have you a few moments to spare ? I'd like a word 
with you. 

Clay. I'm at your service unless I'm telephoned 
for from the surgery. 

Jabez. Sit down, doctor. 

Clay, [sitting r. of fire) ^ Thank you. 

Jabez (sitting l. of fire). I understand you've 
been writing a book. Dr. Clavering ? 

Clay. Oh^ that's it, is it ? You've heard from 
my collaborator ? 

Jabez. Your collaborator ? 

Clay. Mr. Bunting. . 

Jabez. Oh, yes, of course. Just so. Now, speak- 
ing as a business man, doctor, I suppose you'd some 
object in writing that book ? 

Clay, (grimly). I want better conditions for 
chemical workers. 

Jabez. I said " speaking as a business man." 

Clay. Well, sir ? 

Jabez. I've not read the book yet. But I sup- 
pose I shan't be wrong in assuming it deals largely 
with the advantages of the Clavering patent respir- 
ator. 

Clay. Naturally. 

Jabez. I thought so. Of course, you're convinced 
of its advantages ? 

Clay. I use it myself. So does Mr. Bunting in 
his laboratory. Look at us. We're well. Then 
look at your men. They don't use it. I'd just come 
from seeing another of them, when I got your message. 



58 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

That man is being slowly poisoned to earn his bread. 
It's a typical case. 

Jabez. It's very sad, very sad. Well now, 
doctor, can you propose anything ? 

Clav. I can propose the respirator. It's not 
ideal, I don't pretend it is — but it 'all give the poor 
devils a chance. 

Jabez. We must certainly have the respirator. 

Clav. (surprised). You refused it when it was 
offered you. 

Jabez. My dear sir, I get safety devices sent me 
every day. I can't use 'em all. You never told 
me you used your thing yourself. It makes a world 
of difference. And you hadn't written a book about 
it. 

Clav. I see. 

Jabez. I thought you would. Come, we're get- 
ting on famously. Now if I adopt the respirator, do 
you think the book need be published ? 

Clav. {curtly). Yes. 

Jabez. Oh, come, doctor, don't be stupid. 

Clav. (pause). I'll tell you what I will do, if you 
like. I'll wire the pubHsher to postpone its issue 
and have a note put in stating that it's been adopted 
here. But -I'll not cancel my book. 

Jabez. That might do. 

Clav. (reflectively!). It'll be a good advertisement 
for the respirator. 

Jabez. And a good thing for the patentee, eh, 
doctor ? 

Clav. I hope so. 

Jabez. I've no doubt of it. So that's satisfactory 
to both parties. By the way, doctor, don't think 
me rude if I put a rather personal question to you. 
I've a reason for asking. Do you consider your 
practice here a valuable one ? 

Clav. That rather depends on what you mean 
by valuable. It's numerous enough in all conscience. 
There's plenty of ill-health about. But valuable, 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 59 

no, I can't say it is. Your men get paid too little 
and they die too fast for a doctor to grow fat amongst 
them. 

Jabez. I've a notion we might come to some 
arrangement. I've had an idea of adding a medical 
officer permanently to the staff. What do you say, 
doctor ? 

Clay. I'll think it over. 

Jabez {rising). Do. With the respirator at v\^ork 
you should have more leisure on your hands for re- 
search, eh, doctor ? I know vv^hat beggars you 
rhedical men are for experiments, and you can't have 
over much time at present. Suppose you telephone 
me later. We shan't quarrel over terms. Or, stay, 
come in to dinner to-night ? {Rises and crosses R.) 

Clav. Thanks. I will. {Rising and going l.) 

Jabez. You quite understand what this means, 
doctor ? 

Clay. Er — -in what way ? 

Jabez. Well, it's the end of your literary career. 
I want no more books. 

Clay. Nor I. This one will put the respirator 
on the market ; that's all I want. 

Jabez. I thought as much. There's nothing like 
candour after you've gained your point. [Sitting 
at desk.) Oh, by the way, there's a meeting of the 
men to-night. 

Clay. So I hear. 

Jabez. I'm going to speak there. 

Clay. You ! 

Jabez. Yes, and I want you to come with 
me. 

Clay. It's not quite in my hnc, sir. 

Jabez {persuasively)'. Oh, just to tell 'em about 
this little arrangement of ours. 

Clay. I see. 

Jabez. Charlie's speaking, you know. Some one's 
got to speak against him. Er— I'll see it's a hand- 
some salary, doctor. 



60 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Clav. I'll be there, Mr. Thompson. (Moving 
to R.c. hy desk.) May I ask you something ? 

Jabez. Yes ? 

CLxW. Is Charhe still engaged to Miss Thompson ? 

Jabez. I beUeve so. 

Clav. Oh ! 

Jabez. What was it ? 

Clav. I was going to ask if I might speak to her 
myself. 

Jabez. You hadn't much success last time, had 
you ? 

Clav. No. There's no harm in asking two or 
three times. 

Jabez. Oh, you can ask. 

Clav. But Charlie 

Jabez. As you say, there's no harm in asking. 
But understand it's between you and her. You're 
not to use my name. 

Clav. That's all I want. 

Jabez. I'll see you to-night, then ? 

Clav. Yes. 

Jabez. Right. Good morning, doctor. 

Clav. Good morning, sir. 

{Exit Clavering, l. Jabez mhs his hands together 
with a satisfied air. Lomax enters l. as Clavering 
goes out. He has a number of papers in his hand.) 

Lomax. Will you sign the announcements now, 
sir ? 

Jabez {genially). I wiU that. {Commences to 
sign as Lomax hands them to him one by one.) 



Curtain. 



ACT III. 

The same evening. The ante-room of the Assembly 
Hall — a dingy place, used on occasion as a dressing- 
room, and containing a small deal table and a few 
battered cane-bottomed chairs. Two gas-brackets 
project from the wall at the right and isuire netting 
protects the lights. A door r. gives access and one 
c. up three stairs leads on to the platform. A rough 
hat-rack under the left gas-jet bears two ancient bowler 
hats and a cloth cap. Their owners are three members 
of the mens executive — Robert Jones, James 
PuLLEN and Joseph Livesey. Pullen, the owner 
of the cap, is smoking a clay pipe. He is a sioutish 
man of about forty, obviously no teetotaller, with a 
moustache and an obstinate jaw. Jones arid Live- 
sey, the leaders of the strike movement, are perhaps 
ten years his juniors and just a shade more educated 
in their accents. All are roughly dressed, but in 
their evening, not their working clothes. Livesey 
wearing a very much cut away black coat and a waist- 
coat adorned "with a silver watch chain. Pullen 
has a scarf and no collar, but the other pair wear 
celluloid collars over cotton shirts. Pullen is sitting 
at the table sideways, r. ; Jones has his back to the 
fire, l. and Livesey is walking about above table. 

Pullen. What A says is this 'ere. Maister 
Thompson's a jolly good sort. Gives us 'af-day 
Thursday to play us in, with full brass an' all. 'And- 
some, A calls it, 'andsome. (He emphasizes by 
striking his fist on the table.) 

61 



62 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Jones. Tha's a fule, Jim PuUen. Tha's allays 
drawin' red 'errings acros.s the trail. Tha makes 
me tired. 'Ere's a mate o' ours walks into th' 'oist 
same as it might be thee or me an' th' next minute 
'e's gone to kingdom come. Thompson gives us an 
'at-day off to attend th' buryin' if us wants to, an' 
theer's thou an' a few like thee ready to lick 'is boots 
because 'e's yeard us snarlin' an' chucked us a bone 
^o shut our jaws on. Can't tha see 'is game ? 

LiVESEY (behind table). Oh, A'm noan sayin' 
nought about that. That were an accident like what 
might 'appen anywheers. It's th' whole system 
we want altered. 

PuLLEN. System is it ? Aye, tha find me a 
system as'll give us more beer an' more easy time 
to sup it in an' A'm with thee. 

LiVESEY. It's not so much for usselves as for our 
childer. 

PuLLEN (shuffling irritably). A'm noan v/ed. 'Ad 
more sense. If you young 'uns will marry, you mun 
iak' consequences. 

LiVESEY (sitting behind table R. side). The kids! 
That's the point, Jones. We're ould. 

PuLLEN (contemptuously). Thee ould 1 Why, lad, 
tha were nobbut breeched t'other day. 

LiVESEY (turning on him). Yes, we are — we're 
ould as life goes here. We're done. But th' kids 
have a reeght to summat better. We canna see our 
way out. We're nobbut a silly crowd o' fules. 

PuLLEN (interposing). Tha are that. 

LiVESEY (contimmig). But if we could nobbut 
educate our childer. They'd find a way. 

PuLLEN. 'Ere, mister, my lad, what's tha gettin' 
at ? The kids gets their schooling, don't they ? 

Jones. Aye, till they're legally ould enough to 
coom to work an' forget in a year all as they've 'ad 
shoved into their yeads in eight. (Spits in fire.) 
They've a reeght to a better chance than we 'ad an' 
we can't give it 'em. We're not paid enough. We're 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 63 

iivin' on hope, an' hope's hke ivy. It cHngs to ruins. 

LiVESEY. That's good. Tha remember yon an' 
give it 'em in theer in thy speech. [Jerking his 
thumb towards the door c.) 

Jones (going on as though speaking to a meeting). 
Th' bosses 'ave got us down and they're sitting on 
our yeads. It's about time we woke oop an' showed 
'em the working man's not such a blamed fool as 'e 
looks. 

LiVESEY. Aye. Now tha' talkin'. 

Jones. We keep body an' soul together and 
that's the limit. 

{Enter r. Job Alcott, another workman, quite roughly 
dressed and apparently of the most poorly paid 
class. He looks ill.) 

Alcott. Good evening. 

LiVESEY. Tha doesn't look so rosy to-neeght, 
lad. What's oop wi' thee ? i 

Alcott [wearily, hanging his cap up, then sitting 
in chair R. hy table). Oh, th' usual thing. You all 
knov/. Can't relish my food an' yeadache an' faint 
feelin'. Rum taste in my mouth, an' all. 

LiVESEY. Aye.' We all know that taste. 

PuLLEN. Beer's th' stuff to wash it out o' your 
mouth. [Crosses, to fire and sits R. of it.) 

Alcott. A saw doctor last neeght. 

Jones. Aye. What's 'e say ? 

Alcott [bitterly). Tould me A'd no chance if A 
went on 'ere. Get soom fresh air for a month or 
two, 'e says. Get away out o' this into country, 'e 
says. Country ! Likely isn't it ? A'm a labourer. 
Ask off for a month, supposin' A'd got th' brass to 
keep me which A've not, an' A'll get sack sharp. 
They've only to send to the next big town an' a thou- 
sand poor chaps as is out o' collar 'ull coom trampin' 
out after my bloomin' eighteen bob a week an' be 
damned glad to get it an' all. 

LiVESEY. Shame ! 



64 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Jones. It's a cryin' shame. Why, look at me 
wi' eighteen bob a week same as him, an' the mouths 
A've got to fill. Ma missus as 'ad eleven of 'em in 
'er time, A were wed at eighteen, A were. 

PuLLEN (quarrelsomely). Tha's never got eleven 
childer. Don't try to kid me. 

Jones. Not hvin', A haven't. Some of 'em's dead 
— thank God. 

LiVESEY. Coom, draw it mild, lad. Yon's blas- 
phemy. 

Jones (sullenly). No, 'tisn't, neither. A do thank 
God for it. Poor httle beggars, they're better dead 
nor alive an' starvin' wi' th' rest. A man can pull 
his belt oop a hole an' suck a pebble if he's hunger- 
mad. Th' kids can't do that. 

LiVESEY. They wouldn't need if tha'd keep off 
the booze. 

Jones (fiercely). A don't drink. A don't like 
beer. It turns my 'stomach. (Up sta^e round R.) 

PuLLEN (rising disgustedly and walking aivay as 
if from a portent). Call thasel' a mon and don't like 
beer ? (He turns to light his pipe at a gas, hut fails 
to get it through the wire, mutters " Blast," and takes 
a match out and lights up.) 

LiVESEY. Then what dost take it for. 

Jones. What for ? To mak' me forget. (Going 
down to sit l. of table.) A must forget soomtimes. 
A'd go crazed if A didn't forget. (Sitting.) 

Pullen (at the gas): Blast. 

LiVESEY. It's a weary hfe. 

Alcott (rising- and going up c). It's a hell. 
Damn Thompson. Damn him an' all that's hissen. 

Jones (protestingly) . Damn him, aye, but -not all 
that's hissen. That means Miss Thompson, an' 
she's a blessed angel. 

Pullen (coming forward). Bah ! Her an angel, 
her wi' her 'ard proud mug goin' about as if we was 
dirt at 'er feet. 

Jones. Aye, an angel, lad. That's her ; 'ard as 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 65 

nails she looks an' proud as L"cifer ; but tha's no^ 
wed • tha's not seed yon wench sittm i thy kitchen 
nussin' thy kids. Maybe she's never sent thee ftne 
grub when tha was sick. 

PULLEN. A'm never sick. , ,, , , 

Tones No, but she'd know if tha wert, an tha d 

know she knowed it, an' all. Not as she maks a fuss 

about it It's all done quiet. A dunno if Thompson 

'isself so much as knows a word about it. 

Alcott (L.C. at back). Aye, that's reeght. Am 
sorry A cursed 'er. Theer were a two three bottles 
o7 champagne an' soom jelly an' stuff wait.n to 
whoamfor^me last neeght when A get theer from 
doctor Not a word about who'd sent them, but 

'X^^rt^^. 'Ere lads, A feels bad. Took 
sudden, some road. 

T TVFSEY What's to do ? 

PULLEN. A dunno. Thowt o' that champagne, 

A reckon. 

Enter R. Mrs. Jones-« sUgki. ^'^^'J^^'l r^'^^t 
about tuny wUh prnchedjealures and ff'.J^'';^ 
wears clogs, and a drab cloth sktrt. '^f * /"'""^f^ 
blouse and a shawl over her head. «« «« ~;^;„„^' ^ 
crosses quickly to Jones and shakes his shouUler 
violently, speaking in a shrill voice.) 

Mrs. Jones. Thee coom whoam, Bob Jones. 
Coom 'ome, A tell thee. , , , , 

Alcott. Eh ! missus, what s to do^ 

Mrs. Jones (turning on him). Thee shut tha ugly 
mug, and don'\ put thy spoke in atween man an 
wife. (To Tones.) Now then, art coomm ? 

TnnFs What's OOP wi' thee, lass .' 

Mrs Tones Tha knows. A tould thee A'd coom 
an fe?ch^°hee whoam if tha dared to shove tha no^ 
in at meetin'. Strike indeed, tha great leatheiyeart . 



<m DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Wait till A get thee to whoam. A'U give thee strike. 

LiVESEY. Leave 'im be, missus, Tha don't know 
what tha's toJkin' about. 

Mrs. Jones. Don't A, ma lad ? {Her arms go 
akimbo.) Ma3/be A knows more than the lot o' you 
put together. Ma faither were on strike onct when 
A were nobbut a young wench. A knows what 
strikes means. Strikes means clemmin', and ma 
childer shaiina clem as A'd to clem then if A can 'elp 
it. Now, then, ar't coomin' ? 

Jones {rising). Leave be. This 'ere's not wim- 
men's business. 

Mrs. Jones. No, but it's a woman's business to 
see as 'er childer gets their baggin',-an' it's a woman's 
business to sit an' watch 'em clem if theer's no baggin' 
to ^WQ 'em. It's you men as does th' silly things 
an' us women an' childer as pays for 'em. Thee coom 
whoam an' quit makkin' a fool o' thasel'. {Pulling 
Jones toiejards door.) 

Jones. 'Ere, missus, see yon door ? Well, get 
thasel' 't'other side o' it sharp. Tha's no reeght in 
'ere at all. 

Mrs. Jon.es. A've the reeght o' a moother wi 
young bellies to fill Tha coom whoam or tha'll get 
rough side o' ma tongue till tha'll wish tha'd never 
bin born. Wait vvhile A get hold o' yon Bunting 
chap, an' all. A'll give 'im strikes. What does 'e 
want wi' interferin' in other folk's business wantin' 
folks to strike — 'im as 'as allays gone fed an' warm 
clothed an' doan't know what clemmin' means ? 
A'h strike 'im, A will. 

Livesey. Tha don't understand, Mrs. Jones. 

Jones. Coom on now. Let's 'ave no more o' it. 
Outside. 

Mrs. Jones. A don't stir a foot. 

Jones. Don't thee, by gum ? {Picking her up.) 
It's all same to me which way tha goes. {Crossing 
to door R., carrying her struggling.) 

Mrs. Jones {as they go out). Wait till A get thee 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 07 

whocim, my lad. {He carries her out. For a ir.oni^nt 
the altercation continues off R.) 

PuLLEN {coming forward and sitting below table L. 
side). Yon wench is reeght, tha knows. A'm not 
goin' to 'ave nought to do wi' it. Man an' boy, A.'ve 
worked for Maister Thompson thirty year an' A'm 
noan goin' to turn again ma ould maister at ma time 
o' Hfe. A know ma place, A do. 

LiVESEY. Oh, A've no patience wi' thee. 

PuLLEN {obstinately). It's all reeght, Mr. Livesey. 
None o' your strikes fur me. A can see throagh a 
ladder as clear as most. An' A'll tell thee summat 
as is mebbe news to thee. Theer's above a fev/ as 
thinks along o' me, too, only thev don't gas about it 
so loud as you. 

LiVESEY. Very well,- if theer are, theer'll be no 
strike. {Going up c. to door.) Jones returns a little 
shamefacedly. The others avoid looking at him. He 
goes up to c.) 

PuLLEN. No. A'll bet theer'll not. 

Livesey. We'll soon see who's reeght. 

Jones. Aye. coom on. Let's be startin' th' 
meetin'. (Crossing to door c.) 

Livesey {consulting a silver watzliA. Waic a bit. 
Wheer's Mr. Bunting ? We canna star!: wi'out 'im. 
Give u- another five minutes. How's room ? Open 
door theer and see. 

Jones {opening door c. Confused jnurmur as of 
a crowd is heard through it). Pretty nigh packed. 
They'll noan thank us for bein' late. 

Livesey. Close th' door. 

(Jones closes the door and shuts off the sound, dropping 

R.C.) 

Livesey. Tha'd best begin, Bob. A'll follow 
thee, an' Mr. Bunting can say 'is bit w^hen A've done. 
Then we'll put it to the vote, strike or no strike. 

Pullen {sourly). Tha's no need to trouble. 
Theer'll be no strike. 



68 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

LiVESEY. That remains to be seen. We'll give 
'em every chance. No use startin' a strike wi'out 
weighin' things oop proper first. What'll tha say 

BtDb? 

Jones (takes notes from his pocket). This 'ere's 
what Mr. Bunting give me to say. A'm straight fur 
striking. Tha knows that. 

Alcott. Aye. 

PuLLEN. Well, A say it's noan reeght, Joe Livesey. 
Tha's goin' to shoot th' mon first an' tell 'im why 
arterwards. Give 'im a chance. It's th' least us 
can do. 'E's a real good sort, is ould Thompson. 

(Enter r. Clavering and Charlie. They put coats 
and hats on the rack r.) 

Charlie. Good evening. Meeting not begun yet, 
I see. 

Jones. We were nobbut waitin' on you, sir. 
(He looks at Clavering.) 

Charlie. All right. I met the doctor on the door- 
step and brought him along to say a few words. 

Livesey (to Clavering). Glad to see you with 
us, sir. 

Clav. {nervously). Er — yes. I'd like to speak to 
Mr. Bunting first if you don't mind. Suppose you 
fellows go on to the platform and set the ball rolling. 
We'll follow. 

Jones. All reeght. (A little awkwardly.)' Tha'U 
noan be long wilta ? We's none on us much at 
speakin' on our own, tha knows. 

Charlie (reassuringly). Don't be afraid of me, 
I'll do the talking. If the men don't strike, it won't 
be my fault. 

Livesey, That's the ticket. (Passing to door c.) 

Alcott. Give it 'em hot, sir. (Following him.) 

Jones. It will mean a lot coomin' from thee. 
(Following.) 

Charlie. We'll do our best, both of us. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 69 

(Exeunt c. Livesey, Alcott and Jones. .4 burst 
of cheering is heard, then Jones closes the door.) 
PULLEN (following the others, stopping before 
Charlie). If tha's not above takin' a bit o' advice 
from me Maister Banting, tha'll b? careful what tha 
says about striking. Theer's me an' a good few 
others as 'ave put our yeads together, and we're goin 
to see as this business o' striking gets no forrader. 

Charlie {siir prised). Whit's this? (Clavering 
paces about impatiently.) 

Pullen. We don't want no strike. If us wants 
brass, let's ask un for it fair an' straight. Striking's 
not t'h' square thing. , ^ a 

Charlie (roused and speaking passionately). Are 
you bhnd, man ? Is Thompson straight with you ? 
Do you expect a bloated bigwig of the British beily 
class to give you your rights before you force him 
into it ? (Clavering niikes a gesture of despzir.) 
In the whole history of industrial employment have 
employers ever given employes their rights until 
they were forced to ? (Clavering tries to che:k the 
stream in vjin.) They tell you of humane legislation, 
of factorv acts and sanitary regulations. Humane 
legislation ! What was it but the capitalist ruhng 
classes giving way inch by inch before the pressure 
of the masses ? 

(Clavering puts his hand on Charlie's shoulder. 
Pullen has been retreating step by step before the 
now of ehquznoe and now stands cornered and un%ble 
to escape in the left hand corner. Charlie swings 
round irritably on Clavering.) 

Charlie. What's the matter ? 

Clav. (soothingly). Yes, yes, yes, old man. Keep 
all that for in there. (Nodding at door c.) Don t 
waste it on the desert air of an ante-room. Let 
Pullen go. I want to talk to you. ^ 

Pullen. Aye. Soom one 'ad best talk to im it 
'e means to go on that gait in theer. 



70 DEALING IN FUTUEES. 

Clav. {impatiently). Yes. All right, my man. 

Won't you go on to the platform now ? 

PuLLEN. Aye. (Crossing.) A'm going. [He 

opens the door c. Livesey is heard speaking inside.) 
LiVESEY (off, c, his back visible to audience as he 

stands speaking). Comrades, a strike is a terrible 
thing. Do not let us mak' hght o' it. When we call 

on you to decide whether to strike or not (With 

a gesture of disgust and a muttered " Yah," Pullen 
goes out c. and closes the door behind him.) 

Charlie. Thank goodness they're not all that 
type — pig-headed, beery lout. Nov/, old man, I 
suppose you want to talk about our speeches. It's 
no good both saying the same thing. 

Clav. There's no fear of my saying the same as 
you. 

Charlie. Oh, I 'don't know. It's as well to have 
a plan. (Breaking off in a kind of exultation.) Oh, 
Clavering, Clavering, isn't it great ? This is my 
night, my night of nights. Tell me I deserve it, old 
chap. Haven't I worked for it ? It's been no joke 
to wake those fellows up from their lethargy, their 
ignorance, their ridiculous submission. But I did it, 
I alone. Oh, you've done something — the book — 
but you left me the men. That was what I wanted. 
They were mine. How I argued, wrestled, fought 
with them till they saw the truth, till I hghted up 
their dull intelligence and fanned the spark till it 
became the flame that this night's work shall cause 
to blaze and demolish ! (Clavering stands in a non- 
committal attitude, but Charlie does not note his de- 
tachment.) You mustn't grudge it me, Clavering. 
It's my night of triumph, the culminating point of 
all my efforts. I haven't a doubt in me. I'm so 
right,' so utterly right. Nothing can stand before 

me now. They've tried to stop me — my father, 
Thompson — and they've failed. Truth must out. 
There must be justice at all costs, Clavering, at all 
costs. This is the dawn of a nevv' era for Thompson's 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 71 

men. Congratulate me, my ally ! Oh, but I don't 
want your help. It's kind of you to come, but to- 
night I need no aid. I'm strong. I could sweep 
them off their feet in there. But yes, you must come 
with me. Come, let us go. {Clutching Clavering 
as if to carry him bodily in.) 

Clav (ehiding him). Not yet. 

Charlie {astonished). Why not ? 

Clav. I cannot come with you. 

Charlie. But why ? We've the same ideas 
about these things. 

Clav. {significantly). We had. 

Charlie {puzzled). We had ? What do you 
mean ? 

Clav. Don't be angry with me. I've been think- 
ing over the thing and — well — things have been 
happening. 

Charlie. You don't — no, it can't be true — I 
can't beheve it. You ! The book 1 {Realizing it.) 
Good God, he's bought you off. 

Clav. {firmly). The book's all right and I don't 
allow such language, Charlie. 

Charlie {bitterly). I could have staked my life 
on your sincerity. I — I hope you got a good price 
for your silence, Dr. Clavering. 

Clav. Don't be a fool. I tell you I'm not going 
to be silent. The book will appear right enough, and 
there'll be a note in it to say that the respirator's in 
use at Thompson's works. 

Charlie {staggered). What ! 

Clav. Yes. Come, now, haven't we got what 
we wanted ? Isn't it worth while to be bribed ? 
Charlie {recovering himself). Not by that man. 
Clav. Oh, you're an extremist. {Crossing over 
to fire.) 

Charlie. Yes, where Thompson's concerned I 
am. {By door c.) 

Clav. Well, I'm not. His way's only relatively 
bad and if he adopts the respirator 



72 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Charlie (interrupting). His way is the way of 
the slave-driver. He trades in the hves of men. 

Clav. Oh, rot, man. You're drunk with words. 

Charlie (laughing bitterly). You're defending 
your last ditch now. You can't refute me ; you can 
only revile, and the average coalheaver could give 
you points at that. 

Clav. That doesn't get us much further. 

Charlie. Well, it doesn't matter much. After 
all, you're only one more against me, and I'm not 
afraid. Nothing can stand in my path to-night. I 
didn't feel the need for you. I can do without your 
speaking, Dr. Clavering. 

Clav. Oh, I'm going to speak. Mr. Thompson 
asked me to speak. 

Charlie (controlling himself visibly). What are 
3^ou going to say ? 

Clav. I've to tell them I'm appointed medical 
officer at the works. That means free doctoring for 
the men. (Cynically.) They didn't often pay me 
anyhow, but it's officially free now instead of being 
a private benevolence of mine. 

Charlie. Yes, he's bought you by the respirator 
and made you his creature by offering you a salary: 
(Bitterly.) And I thought you were an honest man ! 

Clav. (quietly). I've got to look after myself like 
everybody else. 

(Enter John r., palpably agitated and panting.) 

John (seeing Charlie). Thank God I'm in time. 

Charlie (coldly). In time for what ? 

.John. To stop you. You've not spoken yet, have 
you ? 

Charlie. No, but you'll not stop me. 

John. Dr. Clavering, tell him he mustn't. You're 
his friend, he'll hsten to you. Won't you help me 
to stop this folly ? 

Clav. I can't, Mr. Bunting. You can't cork up 
Niagara. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 73 

John {distractedly). Charlie, remember what this 
means to me. Jabez will have no mercy if you incite 
his men to rebel against him. Think of your father, 
my boy. 

(Clavering witJi a shrug strolls to the hack and stands 
aloof.) 

Charlie. I can't betray my principles even to 
save you, whatever other people can do when it 
suits their interests. (With a backward glance at 
Clavering, who smiles cynically.) 

John (pitiably). You're throwing away my life. 
I can't face the disgrace, Charlie. 

Charlie (firmly). Nevertheless, I must speak. 
(Going up L.c. by c. doors.) 

John. For mercy's sake, be reasonable. 

Charlie (hotly). Reasonable ! What do you 
mean by " reasonable " ? That I should put your 
petty pride before the health and wellbeing of scores 
of men and women. No^ father, I can't be " reason- 
able." I've nailed my colours to the mast and I 
shall speak — -speak as I've never spoken yet, speak 
with all my heart and soul. I've to fight Thompson 
in there, Thompson and his renegade, this turncoat, 
Clavering, and I shall fight to win. Right is with 
me and I'm not afraid to fight without the gloves. 
(He goes off c. in a kind of frenzied exultation. A 
burst of cheering greets him cut off by his closing the 
door.) 

Clav. (sneeringly) . Melodramatic ass ! 

John (sinking into a chair r. of table, and burying 
his face in his hands on the table). What shall I do ? 
What shall I do ? 

Clav. Umph ! It's a pity he's too big an infant 
to have some sense whipped into him, Mr. Bunting. 

John. Don't mock an old man's ruin. 

(Enter R. Rose and then Jabez.) 
Jabez (briskly). Oh, here you are, Clavering. vSit 



74 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

down, Rosie. Dirty hole it is. I can't think why 
on earth you insisted on coming here. (Clavering 
dusts a chair R. with hisJtand and places it for her.) 

Rosie. Thanks. (To Jabez.) Of course I came. 
I couldn't stay away. I had to know what happened, 
and I knew you'd never tell me. (Jabez snorts and 
looks round, seeing John, ivho had again sunk his face 
wrapt lip in his misery. Clavering shuts the door 
which Jabez had left open. John rises and approaches 
Jabez appealingly. Jabez sees him with surprise.) 

Jabez. Hullo, John. 

John (rising). Jabez, for pity's sake. 

Jabez (impatiently). Oh, I've no time to waste 
now, John, (John goes l. and leans head on mantel- 
piece.) I'll see you later. (To Clavering). I sup- 
pose Charhe's on his hind legs by now ? (Up to c. 
doors.) 

Clav. Yes. That's the platform entrance. (He 
crosses to it.) 

Jabez. Wait a bit. Don't go yet. (Clavering 
stops.) Open the door and let's listen to him. (Cla- 
vering opens doors, disclosing Charlie's back as he 
stands speaking on platform.) 

Charlie (off, c). Your trade's dangerous. You 
don't make old bones. If you're not poisoned by 
fumes at forty, you're chucked on the scrap heap 
because you're no longer strong enough to work. 
Don't you deserve some compensation when you 
risk your lives every day you work, when you're only 
fit to work while you're young ? Life is a handicap 
where the weakest starts at scratch and the devil takes 
the hindmost. (Cheers. Clayering makes a question- 
ing gesture.) 

Jabez. No. Hear him out. (Clavering nods, 
still holding the door open.) 

Charlie (off, c). You're not dogs. You're men. 
(Cheers.) You want decent homes and a bit of plea- 
sure in life and something to put by for the time when 
you can't work ! How are you going to do it ? 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 75 

LiVESEY (o^, c). Demand higher wages. Strike! 
{Cries off of " Strike J' " More wages," " Vote.") 

Jabez (motioning Clavering). That'll do, Claver- 
ing. (Clavering shuts the door and comes down 
stairs.) 

John {putting out his hand in timid appeal) . Jabez ! 

Jabez {impatiently). Well, what is it ? 

John. Don't be hard on me, Jabez. I've tried 
to stop him. I've done my best, indeed I have. 

Jabez {impatiently). Oh, I've no time to waste 
now, John. Anyhow you'd better come in yonder 
with me. It'll show 'em you're not of the same mind 
as Charlie. 

John {eagerly). Anything, Jabez. I'll do any- 
thing if you w^on't throw me over. 

Jabez. Well, we'll see about that later. Come 
along. 

{Exit Jabez c, John following. Slight murmurs 
and hoots. Clavering goes up the stairs, hesitates, 
then closes the door and turns, looking at Rosie.) 

Clav. Miss Thompson ! ' 

Rosie {coldly, looking up). Did you speak to me. 
Dr. Clavering ? 

Clav. {smilingly). Yes. Ma^m't I ? {Coming 
forward.) 

Rosie {huffily). You can speak if you like. I 
don't undertake to repl}-. 

Clav. I'm sorry if I've offended you. Won't 
you tell me why ? 

Rosie. You've treated :\Ir. Bunting very shabbily, 
and I really don't wish to hear another word from 
you. 

Clav. Oh, don't say that. I've tried so often 
to get a chance of speaking to you alone. I've 
hungered for it, but it never came. Your radiant 
health stood in the way of even a professional visit. 
I found an excuse to come last night. 



76 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

RosiE. So Alcott's iUness was only an excuse. 
Isn't he ill ? 

Clav. Of course he's ill. What does Alcott 
matter ? He's only one more ground up in the mill 
— and your father sent you from the room because I 
broke his absurd rule of mentioning a works affair 
in your presence. I knew the rule, and I risked his 
displeasure on the chance of seeing you alone to 
plead my cause. 

RosiE. Your cause was Alcott, wasn't it ? 

Clav. My cause was myself. You've not for- 
gotten, have you, what I asked you once before, how 
I came to you two years ago^ — ? 

RosiE. What do you mean ? I think it is you 
who forget. Must I remind you that I am engaged 
to be married to Mr. Bunting ? (Clavering gets 
chair r. of table and sits facing Rosie.) 

Clav. Of course I know that nominally you are 
engaged to him. (Rosie tries to interrupt in vain.) 
I know how it all happened — an old standing idea 
between your father and his. But really, really, 
these family arrangements are out of date. I tell 
you. Miss Thompson, if I could think for one moment 
that you were satisfied to marry Charlie, I'd pluck 
my tongue out rather than speak to you like this. 
I won't believe it. It's an arrangement which suits 
neither of you. Charlie kicks openly against the 
pricks. Your splendid loyalty makes you submit 
in silence. ,Lo3^alty and submission have their uses, 
but you must never let this relic of bygone days sur- 
vive to wreck our happiness. 

Rosie. Our happiness ! 

Clav. Oh, if you want proof of my devotion, 
haven't I given it to you ? I kept my bond. I've 
let you know of all illness amongst your father's 
hands, and I've seen that no word of your ministra- 
tions reached his ear. You mustn't think of Charlie. 
He's an inconsequential wobbler. Oh ! he sees what 
he wants all right, but his only idea of getting it is 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 77 

to bash at everything in his way with a battering ram. 
He can't finesse. 

RosiE. No. I think that's rather fine of him 

myself. 

Clav. Fine ! What good's he done ? See what 
I've done aheady without your help. The respira- 
tor's going to be used and the men get free doctoring. 
I've done that. T alone. Charlie's only talked 
about it. Think how much more I could do for the 
men if I had the help of your influence with your 
father, if I were — your husband. 

RosiE (rising. Clavering rises). Dr. Clavermg, 
before I was engaged to Charhe you asked me to 
marry you. You remember my answer ? 

Clay. Yes, but circumstances have changed. 

RosiE. Yes, they've changed. Your proposal 
then was an honourable one, for I was free to choose, 
and I refused you gently, hoping to spare you pam. 
To-day my answer is the same, with this addition, 
that were I free to choose as I was then, I should 
choose an honest man, a man who couldn't " finesse." 

{Enter John, c. Shouts and clapping heard. Jabez'" 
hack seen as he stands speaking.) 

Clav. {recovering himself with an effort). Well, 
Mr. Bunting, how are things going in there ? 

John. Listen. Jabez is speaking now. 

J\BEZ {off c. : speaking in a genial way). Its 
hke this, lads. I always hke to think of myself as 
the father of my men. I'm proud of you fellows. 
The way you back me up when the spying factory 
inspectors come round is a thing any man would be 
proud of. . . 

PULLEN {off). We're glad to do it for you, sir. 
(Clavering whistles softly and looks at Rosie, who 
avoids his eye.) ., 

lABEZ {off). We're just a big family, and Id like 
to think we're a happy one. But in a big family 



78 ' DEALING IN FUTURES. 

there's bound to be some selfish lad who's discontented 
and tries to make others discontented. I'll name 
no names. 

Clav. (softly), that's one for Master Charlie. 
Jabez (off). I tell you I'm a sight poorer in yon 
hall than you fellows in your cosy cottages. You 
think you'd Hke to change places with me. I wish 
some of you could, and see how you'd like the responsi- 
bility of finding work to keep the shop going for a 
week or two. Damn it, lads, I'm a raven. I know 
that as vv^ell as you do, but I've got to dress up in 
peacock's feathers and pretend- I'm no end of a swell 
for your sakes. It's all bluff — it's the way business 
is done nowadays. Appearances count. 

(Cries off of " That's right, that's right." " Good 
okl Thompson ! " " Go on." He proceeds imth a 
threat in his voice.) Many a time I've been that 
worried over getting in the orders I've had half a 
mind to shut up shop. Don't drive me too far or 
I'll do it. Where 'ud you be then ? There's enough 
working men walking the streets. How 'ud you 
fellows hke to join 'em ? I knov/ it's not an easy 
life. (Plaintively.) I'm doing my level best to 
make it easier. Only to-day I've arranged with 

Dr. Clavering 

Clav. '.That's m.y cue. I'd better show up. 
Jabez (continuing). To give him an appointment 
as medical officer to my works. You'll ^ei free 
doctoring. (ClaverinCx goes out c. quickly, closing 
the door.) ' 
John (looking at Rosie appealingly). Rosie ! 
RosiE. Yes, Mr. Bunting ? (Rises.) 
John (pitifully). Don't let him be hard on me, 
my dear. I've done my best. If only you will 
speak to him. You can always have your way with 
your father. (He puts out his hands appealingly.) 
Rosie (taking his hand in hers and patting it as ij 
soothing a frightened child). Don't be afraid. Do 
you think I'd let you two old gentlemen quarrel 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 79 

atout nothing ? Charlie's father and mine must 
always be good friends. 

John {relieved and almost tearful). Oh, my dear ! 
{Distressed again). But Charlic: {He breaks off.) 

RosiE {encouragingly). Yes ? 

John. You're not going to marry him after what's 
happened. 

RosiE. Why, of course I am. 

John {bewildered). But — I don't know anything 
— I thought he'd 

RosiE {sootkingly). Never mind, Mr. Bunting. 
I promise you father shan't be nasty to you. 

John {pressing her hand.) Bless you, my dear, 
bless you. You don't know what that means to me. 
{He goes out r., blunderingly. The murmur of great 
applause comes from^ c. Rosie looks off c. expectantly. 
The door opens and the sound increases. Enter Jabez 
visibly glowing with heat and triumph, Clavering all 
smiles, and a little behind Charlie, very much dejected. 
The door rem.ains open and the sound dies down gradu- 
ally.) 

Jabez. " Thanks, Clavering. You did that very 
neatly. 

Clav. {obsequiously). You'd done the trick before 
I opened my mouth, sir. (Charlie goes to the back 
with the evident intention of effacing himself.) 

Jabez {briskly). Well, nothing to stay here for. 
We'd better be going, Rosie. 

Clay. It's all over but the shouting. {A cry 
heard off — " Douse 'un in th' 'orse-trough.") 
.Jabez {skarply). What's that? 

{Enter Pullen c.) 

Clay. Some of the shouting. 
Pullen. There's going to be no strike, sir. 
Jabez. Of course not. There never was the least 
chance of it. (Charlie stands near door r.) 

Pullen {scratching his head). A dunno about 



80 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

that. A thowt it a pretty near thing at one time 
afore tha coom in. 

Jabez (confidently). Rubbish, man. Mere talk. 
Never deceived me for a moment. 

(Enter c. Livesey, Jones mtd Alcott. They look 
sidelong at Jabez and slink behind to their hats. 
Livesey goes to Charlie.) 

Livesey. They're talking yonder o' dousing thee 
in 'th 'orse-trough, Mr. Bunting. Tha'd best be off 
whoam sharp. (Gets his cap, r.). 

Alcott. Aye, theer's none on us lot finished oop 
what tha might call 'ot favourites. 

Jabez (turning). Oh, Livesey, that you ? Shake 
hands. No malice, I hope ? (Livesey puts out his 
hand shyly, Jabez shakes it cordially, shaking after 
with Jones and Alcott, the latter of whom rubs his 
hand first on his trouser leg.) Good night, lads. 
(Charlie sits r. dejectedly.) 

Tones I Good night, sir. (They go out r. Pul- 
Alcott JLEN comes to jABEzwith hand extended.) 

Jabez (off-handedlv, dismissing him). Good night, 
PuUen. 

Pullen (drawing back disappointedly on seeing he 
is not to shake hands). Good night, sir. 

(Exit Pullen r.) 

Jabez (to Clavering). There'll be no more trouble 
with those fellows. They know they're marked men 
now. 

Clav. (flatteringly). You do know how to manage 
them, sir. 

Jabez. It's cheap at a handshake. You might 
cut along after'them and talk to the men as they come 
out. See whatl mean ? (Walking ivith Clavering 
to the door r.). We can't make too sure of a thing. 
(Clavering nods and goes out r., lifting coat and hat 
from rack r. as he goes. Jabez turns and sees Charlie.) 



DEALING IN FUTURES. 81 

Well, Charlie, not sulking, are you ? (Claps Charlie 
on the shoulder.) 

Charlie (rises). You'd no right to speak, Mr. 
Thompson. It was my meeting, not yours. 

Jabez. Oh; come, CharHe. All's fair in love and 
war. You can't tell me I didn't give you your 
chance. You'd done before I went in. Come, shake 
hands and be friends. You're fairly beaten. Take 
your gruel like a man. 

Charlie (jerking his head up). Yes^ I'm beaten 
this time. But it won't be so always, and you 
needn't think it will. Ingrained conservatism and 
a silly tradition of loyalty have won for you this 
time. You've bamboozled the majority to-night ; 
but to-night's majority is the minority of to-morrow. 

Jabez. Look here, Chadie. Take an old man's 
advice and give it up. You've had your fling with 
the men and a pretty hash 3^ou've made of it. 

Charlie. Oh, I'm giving it up all right. You 
needn't worry about that. I'm going away. 

RosiE (involuntarily). Going away ! (She makes 
a slight move forward.) 

Jabez. Where ? 

Charlie (ignoring Rosie — to Jabez). Oh, I don't 
know. I'm clearing out of this. I haven't thought 
where. What dees that matter ? 

Rosie. But why, Charhe ? 

Jabez. Oh, that's as plain as the nose en his face. 
(To Charlie.) You're frightened of the men. Yoii've 
been taught to-night that your second-hand, second- 
rate ideas may look very pretty in a book, but they 
won't wash in real life, and instead of facing it like 
a man and staying here to live this down, you can 
think of nothing better than running awa}/. 

Charlie. If you're going to insult me by telling 
me I'm afraid of a few fools whose only idea of argu- 
ment is physical force, I'd better say good night. 
(Turning as if to go r.) 

Jabez. You think you've done something fine, 

F 



82 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

don't you ? (r.c.) I shouldn't wonder if you con- 
sider yourself quite a hero, eh, CharUe ? 

Charlie. No. {Crossing to Jabez.) I'm a man 
looking for a job. 

Jabez. You won't keep it long if you can't learn 
to mind your own business. 

Charlie. My business is Chemical Research. It 
was you who wanted me to leave it and mix myself 
up with other matters. 

Jabez. I wanted you to be a rational member 
of society, sir, not a damned labour agitator and a 
failure at that. You boasted you could sway a mob. 
Sway a mob ! Why, man, you couldn't sway a child. 
You don't know the A. B.C. of public speaking. 

Charlie. Oh, you've a right to boast. Vae 
Victis. 

Jabez. Yes, vanquished on your own ground, 
Charlie. You said you'd speak, and you've spoken. 
A fat lot better off you are too. Now look here, 
Cha.rlie, you're a young fool, but I've always been 
fond of vou, and I'm ready to take a lenient view of 
this. 

Charlie (r.c). Lenient view ! 

Jabez. Yes . . . I've tumbled to what your silly 
twaddle really is. You've simply been sowing your 
wild oats Hke any other young fellow, only it wouldn't 
be you if you did things like other people. Most 
fellows do it over cards or a woman or a lot of women. 
You've done it over my workmen. And the point 
is, the point is that you have sown them, that it's 

done with, ended for good and all (Charlie 

turns to speak.) Confound you, don't interrupt. 
You've had your innings, now it's my turn. You're 
going to drop your cursed— what's it called ? — 
altruism — and you'll settle down cosily and comfort- 
ably with Rosie. That's your programme, my boj^ 

Charlie. To be not only a fool myself, but a 
breeder of fools ! (Rosie turns to fire.) It's no good, 
Mr. Thompson. I tell you I am gomg away. I 



DEALING IN FUTUES. 83 

must slip the cable if Fm to have any respect for 
myself after to-night's work. {Going p.. to coat yack ) 

RosiE (turning, qi^ietly). Father," how lon£( is it 
since you had a cigar"? 

Jabez. I don't know. 

RosiE. I am sure it's time you had another 
(Jabez takes case out.) 

Jabez. Tharik you, mv dear. 

Rosie (apparently shocked). Oh, but vou mustn't 
smoke here. Go to the air and smoke your c'gar 
on the step till I come. {Gently 7na^iceiivring him 
towards the door r.) 

Jabez {going reluctantly). But what are vou ccine 
to do ? 

Rosie. It will be all right. You see, this isn't 
a works' affair any longer, is it ? 

Jabez. Xo. I suppose it isn't. 

Rosie. So it's quite right for me to SDeak to 
Charlie now. I shan't be long. (Jabez goes out r., 
his bearing indicating that he does so under protest. 
Rosie closes the door behind him and faces Charlie.) 

Rosie. Now, Charlie ! 

Charlie (trying to escape). I must be going. 
Good night, Miss Thompson, and good-bve. (Hdiing 
his hand out.) 

Rosie (ignoring the hand standing witJi her hack to 
the door she has just closed.) Don't be silly, Charlie. ' 

Charlie. There's another door, vou know. (Look- 
ing c.) 

Rosie. The main entrance will be locked long 
since. 

Charlie {accepting the situation) What do you 
want with me ? 

Rosie (coming forward from the door and speaking 
softly.) I want to help you. 

Charlie. I don't want your help. I want to be 
alone. Can't you understand mv wanting to crawl 
away and hide ? Won't you let me go ? 

Rosie {sympathetically).'^ I want to help you. 



84 DEALING IN FUTURES. 

Chaelje. Ycur father's right, Rosie. I've made 
a hash cf things. There's r.cthing left for me to do 
here now. I've shot my bolt. 

FcsiE. What do you projfcse to do ? 

Ch.aelie {irritably). Oh, I don't know yet. Go 
en Ii\ing, I suppose. I shan't starve. I'm a qualified 
chemist. That's worth something anywhere. (Sit- 
iin^ L.c. en corner ol table.) 

RosiE. You're worth more here. 

Charlie. Here ! I can never hold my head up 
again after to-night. You don't understand what it 
is I've tried to do. 

Rosie. I understand very well, and I don't quarrel 
with what you wished to do, but you've gone about 
it in the wrong way. You were wrong, utterly 
wrong, in talking to my father as you did. What 
made ^^ou do it ? 

Chaelie. I only told him the truth. 

Rosie. The truth ! Don't you know that there 
are times when it's criminal to tell the truth ? 

Charlie. Never ! 

Rosie. You won't persuade a man like my father 
to see the error of his ways by blurting out a bundle 
of unpleasant truths. You're a reformer in a hurry. 
You won't realize that his convictions are just as 
strong as yours and that he is too old to alter. 

Charlie (icith some slight return of spirit).. And 
I'm too young to alter. W'e've got beyond the point 
when wisdom was regarded as the monopoly of senile 
decay. I won't turn back. (Rising from table and 
going L.) 

Rosie. My dear boy, I don't ask you to. I only 
ask you to advance intelligentl^^ (over to Charlie, 
L.) to understand that the odds against you are 
too great for you to fight single-handed. 

Charlie (gloomily). You're quite right. I'm a 
broken gambler. I'm bankrupt for this fight now 
—bankrupt with no assets. Your father's got them 
all. 



DEALING IN P^UTURES. 85 

RosiE. No, Charlie, not all. You've one asset 
that he'd give half his wealth to have. 

Charlie. I have ? What's that ? 

RosiE. You've youth. You can afford to wait. 
You mustn't throw up the sponge and fly at a first 
reverse. 

Charlie. It seems so hopeless to try to do any- 
thing here. I thought I'd got hold of the men. To- 
night's work has settled all that. I shall never 
recover my influence. I don't know — of course one 
never does — but there might be some place in the 
world where I could be of use. There's just a chance, 
and I want to try again — to redeem all this. These 
things mean so much to me — more than anything 
else in the world. Suffering — poverty — I see them 
so clearly. Whenever I think of other things, things 
I desire, my ovvn personal wishes — they get in the 
\^'ay. 

RosiE. And are you alone blessed with eyesight ? 
Do you think me blind ? Do you combine your 
modern socialism with a mediaeval conception of 
women ? Charlie, if the men's condition has been 
an obsession with you, with me it's been the passion 
of a hfetime. It's gone near to wrecking my life. 

Charlie {invcliintarily). How ? 
RosiE. Because 1 needed help and I sought an 
instrument. A woman's handicapped. I can do 
a lot with my father, but I never dared to interfere 
openly at thej^works. That was his territory, and I 
knew he'd stand no petticoat government there. I 
wanted a man's help. I wanted you. 

Charlie. Why didn't 3^ou tell me this before? 
• We could have done so much ? 

RosiE. Charlie, do you reahze that I'd to Hve 
with my father ? Yon had your differences with 
him, but at any rate they were confined to business 
hours. For me, there was no escape. I lived under 
the same roof with him, so I'd to do my good by 
stealth unknown to him. 



86 DEALING IN FIJTTTREi=^. 

Charlie. But why keep it from me ? 

RosiE (pityingly'). My dear boy ! 

Charlie. Weil ? 

RosiE. You, with your passion for the truth ! 

Charlie (a littk hotly). Do you object to that ? 

RosiE. I hke it. But it made it impossible for 
me to tell you this before. 

Charlie. Why ? (Pause.) 

RosiE. Charlie, if I had told you, would you 
have kept it to yourself ? 

Charlie. W^hy should I do that ? 

RosiE. Exactly. Sooner or later you'd have 
blurted it all cut to my father, and I could have 
done no more good, no more little charities, no more 
small alleviations. W'hat sort of a life do you suppose 
I should have had if he'd learnt that I had broken 
through his rule, that I was doing all I could to soften 
his harsh management and to make things easier 
for his people when they fell ill ? 

Charlie. You've been doing that ? How little 
I knew you ! 

RosiE. It wasn't much, but I did what I could. 

Charlie. \Vhat a sw^ep I've been ! 

RosiE. You're going to stay ? 

Charlie. Yes, I'm going to stay. I've been a 
fool. I thought I hadn't time for marriage. I 
thought' a wife would be a drag. I— I thought 
miyself a tower of strength. 

Rosie (smiling). It had to be, Charhe. A poet 
alv/ays marries a cook. 

Charlie. You mustn't talk like that. I'm not 
fit for you. I've played with you. I thought of 
you as Thompson's daughter, content wdth him and 
all he stands for. And ail the time I wanted you, 
wanted you horribly. Only that stood in the way. 
I loved you while I tried to hate you for what I 
thought you were. I know you better now. You're 
going to help me. That's kind, that's generous of 
you. I need you so much, Rosie. 



DEALING IN FUTURES. ^j 

RosiE. I'm read}' now, father 
Jabez. About time, too 

Ube7 Rnfth'' '"""'"^ '^""^'^ «"*■' "^. father, 
^ee "''" """' '"" °"*^'^"' *ey'JI all 

ROSIE Why shouldn't they? Have vou for 
gotten that we're going to be married on April 2T? 
Come along, Charhe. (She takes fns arm and urL 
lum to door Jabez stares a«hast. then MUrm M 
Charlie s hat and coat.) 

Curtain. 




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